Glittering Blackness
by Silver Phantom 2
Summary: Andross won the Lylat Wars. The Oikonny Dynasty's position is secure until drug smuggler and ex-mercenary Fox McCloud is seduced by a mysterious woman, paranoid and panicked Colonel Falco Lombardi is sent on a mysterious assignment, and political prisoner Peppy Hare makes a psychic connection. Rated for drugs, language, violence, and some sexual themes.
1. Falco I

Introduction

This is a work I began overseas and want to see to completion because Star Fox was my first love and I feel like I owe it that much. But I've come a long way since those old fix you see on my profile. I wrote this to fuck with your sensibilities about who the characters of our favorite furry-Arwing-flying characters are. So shippers and SF traditionalists, abandon all hope.

The premise is simple: Andross won the Lylat Wars.

I tried using any elements to create as cohesive a story as possible. Represented are all of the games, from Super Nintendo to Command, the '93 comics, and the more recent "Goodbye, Falco." That said, there's a number of OCs, mostly minor name dropping, but a few major including four or so point of view characters.

I've changed a few things to make the story work. First, and most simply, I changed Prince Tricky's name to the Japanese and less ridiculous sounding (in English at least, I won't speak for my overseas friends) Prince Torriki. Secondly, Krystal wasn't the only Cerinian refugee. In this world, there was already a Cerinian colony on Sauria when the planet was under attack, as well as theories that the Vulpid people (that of Fox McCloud and Fara Phoenix) are descended of ancient Cerinian colonies. Finally, this is technically a cross-over. I wanted some geography to go off of as I was designing Lylatian history, so I used some of Chris Wayan's planets for inspiration, and since this is fanfiction and will never be published or earn money, I figured why not? So if you're so inclined, look up Planetocopia and see Serrana for a map of _Glittering Blackness_' Corneria, Pegasia for Zoness, and Abyssia for Aquas.

Credit where credit is due, of course: Star Fox belongs to Nintendo, Serrana, Pegasia, and Abyssia to Chris Wayan, and original characters to me.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Falco I

"_The true elegance of the triple-system that developed was proved quite simply by the simple lack of violence." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. I Corneria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

The elevator was made of glass letting Falco and Fara look out onto Victory Plaza. There was a dozen plazas celebrating the Oikonny victory over House Phoenix all over Corneria, but this one was different. This one – instead of the obligatory statue of Andross – had a great platinum statue of "the Hero" General Pigma Dengar.

Falco wanted to throw up every time he saw it. Fara reached over and grabbed his hand. He resisted the feeling of lashing out and turned back to the door. Fara pressed his uniform that morning and made sure he looked professional. This charade was going on six years and was almost down to a science. By now, Falco could walk around the Zonesian Market without getting stared at. He was even starting to brave the Sharpclaw areas of the city without getting death threats. Fara was able to sit in Parliament without constantly being hounded. Their image as a "down home" couple – a husband who mingled with regular soldiers, a wife who spoke with her constituents, and all without servants or androids – was so complete even Falco was starting to believe they were really in love.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Fara broke the silence of the rising elevator, "There's a new top general and she probably just wants to size you up." The elevator was bugged so she didn't dare state the obvious, _You know how to talk to them. _

To which Falco would normally respond _Fox McCloud is a traitor and a terrorist. My previous association with him was a mistake of youthful arrogance and sentimentality. I apologize profusely and pledge loyalty to the Lylatian People's Union and Emperor Andross. _

Instead he nodded once.

The elevator doors _dinged _and opened to reveal General Rose's floor. The new commander of the Cornerian Defense Force was a big mystery all around. The vast expansive waiting room did nothing to assuage that image. There were four guards immediately waiting just off the elevator: all four of them panthers like the General herself. A large desk with a young feline behind the computer systems and in the CDF white uniform was busy organizing the general's schedule and her documentation.

She looked up and smiled, "Colonel Lombardi, Madam Phoenix, General Rose has been waiting for you."

"We're not late are we?"

"Of course not. Right on time." She stood and walked over to the hallway, "If you would come with me." She led them down the hall to the other side of the building. They passed brightly lit rooms and animated screens with brilliant technicians. To their left was a glass wall looking out over the Cornerian skyline. Hundreds of cars whizzed past in orderly lines over the streets below where citizens lived blissfully aware that it was Emperor Andross that both terrorized and protected them. At least they couldn't see Victory Plaza from here.

"Madam Phoenix, General Rose would love to meet with you at a separate date, but at the moment she has business with Colonel Lombardi. If you would like, there is her personal café right here." The secretary pointed across the hall to a bright room with a large antiquated bookshelf and a set of coffee and tea machines. Fara nodded and said, "Thank you." She took Falco's hand and squeezed it, "See you in a few."

The secretary brought Falco another hundred feet and entered a numerical code into the door handle. It hissed open revealing General Rose's enormous office, which was backed by a glass wall that overlooked the capital city. From here they could look directly down Central Avenue to Founder's Hall where Parliament met.

General Rose was staring out towards the Parliament building sipping on a cup of coffee. It gave Falco a minute to examine the rest of the room. There were bookshelves with a thousand tomes old and new. Print was largely dead, the most active print shop producing only twenty or so books a year. General Rose's shelves, however, had at least a thousand printed works. In between her shelves were mannequins wearing different suits of armor from different periods of Cornerian history. Had Falco read more, he might be able to identify them.

"Do you like my collection?" she asked, catching Falco off guard, "the armor that is."

Falco didn't even notice the secretary leave, never mind General Rose turn to him. Rose was a beautiful woman. She had midnight black hair and a pair of violet eyes. The way she carried herself was a mixture of professional grace and pure seduction. A woman from Falco's past used to walk like that too…

"It's beautiful… I just didn't pay attention in history class enough to be able to distinguish them."

She walked over to the center of her office where a small coffee table sat in the center of luxurious arm chairs. They were out of place: an anachronous island of ancient civilization in place of modernity's holographic walls and digitized information network. She passed Falco and pointed to the first suit, "Plate metal from the late Illuminated Age. It was worn by heavy cavalry and at a successful distance, deflects early lead projectiles. Canid civilization conquered all of Corneria wearing this." The armor was clearly not a replica. It was polished to perfection except where it was dented and wounded. General Rose moved over to the second suit, "This one is _much _older. Early Diamond Age at the latest, from the other side of the world of course. Leather and bronze. The suits of warring Vulpid tribes." She smiled and turned to Falco, "I could talk about my collection for hours, but I didn't bring you here to talk about history…" she walked over to the table and sat down in one of the armchairs, "Please, sit. Something to drink?"

Falco learned long ago not to reject courtesy offers, "Any black coffee left?" he noticed the general preferred hers loaded with milk.

Rose tapped her wrist monitor, "Meera, black coffee for the colonel."

It beeped off, "My predecessors were entirely unlike me as I'm sure you can attest."

"I wouldn't know, to be honest. I was never invited to their offices." A servant, not the young uniformed secretary, entered with Falco's coffee. He supped it patiently. Falco gave up his fear of poisons a long time ago.

"Really?" she didn't seem as surprised as she faked, 'Well, Cornelius Pepper was rather minimalist in his decorations. He was a fan of 'less is more' and had only his desk and two chairs. Pigma Dengar had a bar installed along with an imported rug and a set of couches. A shame for Corneria the Aparoids came if only because the Hero was all of a sudden bestowed the honor of defending the Lylat System instead of being revealed as the whoremonger he is." She was too refined to spit in her own office, but Falco sensed that if they were outside they might toast to the bastard's early demise, "And Oikonny had a bit of an ego disorder – as I'm sure you'll confirm. He had a desk and throne you needed to literally _climb stairs _to get to. He filled his office with Level 1 grunts and commanded they fall on their knees if he so much as _looked _at them. Cornelius Pepper being the exception, you need to go back into the history of the CDF to find as cultured a general as myself… at the risk of self-flattery."

Falco sipped his coffee. General Rose immediately noticed it was an effort to silence him, "Feel free to speak. One of the privileges of the office is that I don't have a bugged room. How do you think Dengar got away with entertaining prostitutes up here?"

"With respect," Falco began, "I'd rather not say."

It seemed to only increase her curiosity, "Then consider it an order. Speak freely."

Still unaware of his fate, Falco did as he was told, "Again, with respect, Peppy Hare is someone you might have found common ground with. Before a battle, he would quote epic poetry in an attempt to steel our nerves. I think it only worked for Fox. I was too headstrong to care."

General Rose smiled, "Peppy Hare? Really?" she put her cup down on the table, "I had not looked into him as well as I should have, apparently. Tell me, Colonel. How much do you know about me?"

"To be honest, General. Nothing. I was well acquainted with all three of your predecessors but was somewhat surprised to hear about your appointment over Leon Kowalski."

"Leon?"

"Yeah, they seemed to be going down the roster of Star Wolf candidates, so I assumed it was Leon's turn after Pigma and Andrew were sent off to higher posts."

"I see. Well, fortunately for the CDF and Corneria in general, Captain Kowalski is still on assignment in Katina. I daresay I expected another Oikonny to take Andrew's place, and was rather surprised when they pulled me from my previous assignment to take command here."

"If I may ask," Falco began, "what was your previous assignment?"

"I was in the Intelligence Division. I wore the black before they handed me red. It's even more surprising considering neither of my previous assignments were completed. Before I was handed command I was on the hunt to track down Wolf O'Donnel. I managed to track him to the Sargasso Region before my brother took over the mission. I must have been doing something right since they promoted me to this post. And again the mission to hunt down Wolf was something of a promotion after hunting down Fox McCloud."

Falco's head shot up. He managed to make himself so comfortable in front of this former intelligence officer that he'd been unable to hide his concern for a friend he hadn't seen in fifteen years, "Fox McCloud? You… you hunted him down?"

"I managed to track him to the outer system. Every four years when Solar reaches perihelion he hops from the Meteor field to Eladard or Venom hiding out until he can hop the systems again to Titania. I almost caught him once in a bar on Titania but he escaped. It was after that that I gave my analysis of Fox as no longer a threat. Evading security forces had become second nature to him, but getting into bar fights was his new favorite pastime. It was far more likely at that point that he would get knifed in Eladard than executed in Corneria."

"Yet… he's still public enemy number one?"

"Appearances, Colonel. It's all about appearances. As long as Fox remains unwelcome in Corneria, then he'll stay that way. Wolf O'Donnell, on the other hand, is a much more dangerous animal. He's operating out of the Sargasso Region, I just can't exactly determine to what purpose."

They sat there in the middle of her office for a long while admiring the historic décor before the servant came in to refill General Rose's cup. When he left she sipped her coffee one more time before beginning, "Let me cut to the chase, Falco. Unlike previous Generals, I _need _you."

Falco put down his coffee, "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me correctly. I need you." General Rose stood and walked over to the enormous window covering the back of her office, "Come here and look with me." Falco obeyed. Down the street directly across from them was the Parliament building. And at the forty-five degree angle was another street leading directly to the Redwood Palace: the office and official residence of the Oikonny Dynasty, "Do you see this, Falco? There is Parliament, there is the Emperor, and there is us. Each has a proclaimed responsibility. Parliament is to ensure proper governance and successful commerce in the Lylat System. The CDF is to defend the Lylat System from external – and internal – threats. Now tell me, what is the Oikonny Dynasty's purpose?"

He felt like she was pushing him against a wall. Was she testing him? Trying to root out insurgency before it arises? "The Oikonny Dynasty provides consistency of governance through hereditary succession."

She began to laugh, "Ah, yes. Consistency through heredity, as House Phoenix claimed before them. Yes, the only thing relatively consistent about hereditary governance is the corruption. Not even the last name is the same. No. The Oikonny regime's purpose is to serve itself." No, she couldn't possibly be testing him, "Before the Lylat Wars, the System experienced almost a century of internal peace. That's why Pepper had to rely on the first Star Fox team to get rid of Andross for the first time. Before Andross invaded, Parliament ran the show. From Macbeth to Fichina, Parliament was dedicated to resource distribution and a utopic future. When Andross upset that balance, Pepper assumed a lot of power not seen since Unification. Parliament dismissed him from power and approved Andross as the head of state. If it wasn't for the Aparoids, we might have done away with him entirely, but he saved Corneria and legitimized himself. So it is left to us to restore the balance."

Falco had to blink just to give himself the time to process all of this information, "I don't understand."

"This, right here. This is known in political theory as an _iron triangle_. Parliament, the CDF, and the Oikonny Dynasty support one another, granting an indestructible pyramid of legitimacy. I mean to _break _that pyramid."

"What you're talking about… is treason…"

"Only if I fail. Are you going to be the one to report me to the Emperor?" Falco didn't have to shake his head. They both knew the answer, "I told you, Falco. I need you. I know your history. I know your marriage is a sham. The game you play in the CDF is purely for survival. And you want nothing more than to visit your old friend Fox. I'm giving you an opportunity to _live _again. All you have to do is accept."

She walked over to her desk and handed him a micron fiber, "If you accept, you leave tomorrow. If not, just say so and I can post you somewhere safe. Somewhere out of sight where you can at least know you're not being watched twenty-four-seven and you can drink enough beer to die painlessly in your sleep. If that's the kind of life you want."

The fiber hung there between them like a glass piece of string, holding Falco's destiny between them.

Fifteen minutes later he was riding the elevator down with Fara. They didn't speak. Outside in Victory Plaza, neither of them commented. Nor did they make a sound on the train to the Upper West Side or up the stairs to their apartment. After the door was closed, and Falco sat down on the couch, Fara finally asked if he was hungry. It was as if the entire journey to the CDF never happened. Falco didn't hear her, so she began cooking.

Falco lifted his wrist link and inserted the fiber. The subcutaneous implants vibrated to life, "Colonel Lombardi, you are needed in the Cape Claw colony on Sauria. The colony is under consistent attack by the indigenous population and needs you to broker a peace deal with the natives. Find out what secrets Sauria hides and what exactly we can do to ensure the colony's survival. When you arrive on site and meet with Colonel Grey, more instructions will follow." A thousand and one questions flooded his mind. But they were questions he knew he couldn't articulate. They assumed from day one that any place they chose to inhabit was bugged by Oikonny agents, the CDF, of both. This charade they developed after the disappearance of death of all their friends was so real Falco and Fara almost started to believe it. Still, after all these years, an intelligence officer rises to prominence in the CDF and consults Falco with an opportunity to bring the downfall of the Oikonny regime? Fifteen years of hardship, all come down to this…

Fara clinked down the plate in front of him. It was bread made of nuts and vegetables. She had her own and waited for Falco to finish before she asked if it was all right to turn on the news. The televisor and afternoon news channel displayed a dozen stories challenging as usual the objectivity and credibility of the Oikonny-funded news. Riots in Zoness from local fruit farmers upset at taxes imposed by parliament. Resignation speeches by MPs all revealed to have been engaged in illicit dealings on corruption scandals. Praise for Dash Bowman, the new governor of Venom and Andross' own grandson. They were used to cutting out the bullshit. Years of watching the media and toning out the crap was a skill anyone who worked in the system managed to develop.

Falco wasn't watching, his whole world was too busy turning upside down. Fara mercifully shut the machine off and picked up his hand, "Want to go?"

Falco nodded, "Yeah."


	2. Fox I

Chapter 2: Fox I

"_The Cerinian Diaspora was sudden and transformed the face of the Lylat System. Facets of Cerinian culture that were reined in through sociological forces were now let loose." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. IV Sauria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

The slums of Eladard were not Fox's favorite place to be. Given the option here and now he would go back to Sauria and warm some Cerinian's bed. Or at least Titania was warm. The pollution from Eladard's million weapons factories blotted out even the meager warmth that Solar provided, and made even the bright Lylat sun completely invisible. You would have to turn over quite a few rocks to find a sorrier being than Eladard factory workers.

"Hey Jack," Seris was one of Eladard's aristocrats. He owned a string of bars and 10-buck nightclubs around the city. Fox sold him Cerinian ukuu for fifty a bottle every round trip. It wasn't a favorite among Seris' regular clientele but there were a couple hundred Cerinian exiles that came to Seris only for ukuu, "You bring the stuff?"

"A hundred and nine bottles in the Arwing." Fox sat at the bar and wiped his hands on the napkin before wiping gin off the counter, "You want I should bring them?"

"Nah, don't burden yourself," he was a big ursine fellow, over weight from one too many imported steaks, "I'll send my boys to get the stuff. Where at? Seventy six as usual?"

"Bay 346. Some asshole took my spot carrying what looked like whales in the cargo bay."

Seris laughed his big bellow, "Whales! Heh, must be the Guinpes got paid if they can afford whale again. I'll send Schuyler down to pick up the ukuu. Same service password?"

"Haven't changed it. Just tell him to be careful with the cart. I've got enough of a trashed hull. You gonna donate the funds for it?"

Seris laughed again, "Just tell Leonelle it's on me, as usual. I'm getting a call from the woman. One of them at least." He bumped Fox's fist and picked up his comm. Link in the other hand.

Leonelle, a short skinny reptilian hitting too much pipe showed up shortly and bumped Fox's fist, "Hey Jack. You bring the blue juice?" Ukuu was usually clear blue water but thick like syrup. The Cerinian's used to homebrew it with scrambled bafomdad egg, but here just drank it straight since Seris' bars weren't fond of frying eggs in their alcohol special order. But the people who drank it were usually covered in rich blue fur that Fox was so familiar with.

"Yep. Schuyler is going to pick it up now. Let the boys know."

"What can I get you?"

"ECD. Make it strong."

"Eladard Cough Drop. Seris payin'?" he started mixing the drink: a potent concoction of four liquors topped with a sugary soda for some consolidation. Fox was starting to see his smuggling career as an exercise in liquor tourism. He knew every local drink outside of the Meteor belt and all of the best recipes inside. Better yet, he knew the best bartenders.

"You know it."

Leonelle put the cold glass on the bar and slid it over to Fox with a bowl of bar nuts, "Hey, Jack, you got anything for me?"

"C'mon, Leo, you know I don't eat Eladard produce," even so he reached into one of his jacket pockets for red magic.

"Nah, Jack you got it all wrong. This shit's been green house grown. Geothermal irrigation systems and all that. Shit's clean."

"Go back there and get me butter cookies. At least I know those were processed in a factory with old-fashioned grease and metal." Leonelle stopped protesting to quicken his fix and ran to get a plate of processed and fatty butter cookies. He came back and handed Fox the plate with three 100-credit notes underneath. Fox divided his usual stash for Leo in half and gave him a fraction, sliding across the table. No cops came to this part of town and few cared about the extra-legality of things that happened in Eladard, but things were kept on the down-low. No one was looking too closely at Eladard's business so long as it didn't interfere with weapons manufacturing. The local police mantra was "out of sight, out of mind."

"What's this, man?"

"That's what you get for three hundred."

"I'm running low on cash supply, Jack. I can get you the rest."

"Then I'll give you the whole eighth when I get the whole payment. You know me, Leo. Cash up front." Leo took what Fox gave him and checked on the other customers before excusing himself to the bathroom for a hit.

Fox sipped on his drink and breathed easy for a bit before a Cerinian man sat next to him, "Eh! Norbu, I heard the ukuu shipment came in."

"Touched down not an hour ago." Fox spoke fluent Cerinian and was all too happy to practice among honest people. Well, the Cerinians were more honest if you could speak their tongue. In Cornerian, they were as honest as everyone else, "Seris sent one of his boys to get it from the harbor." He reached into his jacket, pulled out a silver flask and passed it to Toke.

The Cerinians that left the tribes tended to assimilate into their new homes pretty well. Toke and his wife wore Lylatian jackets and pants like the rest of the native workers, but wore distinctive jewelry on the outside. Women tended to wear their distinctive head dresses while men wore a single plastic earring on their left side. Traditional gold was a rarity and only held in locked family boxes. The precious metal made immigrants a target for gangs of thieves. Toke wore a white earring the shape of an eternal knot.

He took a swig of Fox's flask. The liquid burned down his throat bringing back memories of home, "Ah! Beautiful stuff. Never as good without the egg. Bafomdad eggs are always the best. Healthiest for you too. You ever eat Baf meat, Norbu?"

"Toke," Fox started, "Every few years I come with a shipment from Sauria and every few years we go through the same spiel. I have tried every Cerinian dish you can think of, and yeah, Bafomdad piss can raise the dead."

"You don't believe it, Norbu? I've seen it!" He took another swig. About that time Leonelle came back from the bathroom, his pupils dilated and his movements slow and laborious. Too much magic at once gave the user a serious high, "Hey you got some of that for me?"

Fox reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag with six crystals the size of cherries. Toke passed him six hundred for the bag and asked, "You got full boxes on your ship?"

"Long as you got the money," Fox drank the last in his glass and passed it to Leo, "Top me up."

"Heh, of course we do. It's gutukla soon. You should stay for the festivities, my family would love to host you." He rolled a red crystal into a banana leaf and put it in his mouth. Chewing the magic slowly produced a mild euphoria and a slight buzz rather than the acute and dangerous chemical imbalance produced by putting it up your nose.

"The kind of work I do, Toke. You don't want that kind of attention for a night."

"Nonsense. You are a friend of the Cerinian community. My wife makes excellent Cerinian dishes. Good as one could make on this smog-crushed rock."

Leo handed Fox a refill on his ECD and Fox drank half before turning to Toke, "I've always wanted to ask… why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you and your family stay here? Of all places. Why Eladard? It's the scummiest rock in the entire system."

Toke laughed to himself and finally said, "Why do you come here, Norbu?"

"To stay hidden."

"There you go." He stood up to leave but turned to Fox and asked, "Where are you staying tonight if not my place?"

"There's some cash-only fleabags in Drayang Park. I'll go there."

"Where can I find you tomorrow for a box of this stuff?" he pointed to his bulging cheek.

"I'll find you," was all Fox said before Toke waved and walked out the door. Fox was on his third drink by the time Seris walked back and handed him an orange envelope with a bulging brick shape in the middle, "Fifty-five large. You brought more than last time, Schuyler said."

"Yeah, my guys on the inside need all the cash they can get right now. I've got a couple of other products on the down-low they want me to get rid of, too."

"I can hook you up with some unsavory folks if you need some buyers."

"Thanks, Seris. I got my contacts though. You still got that bitchy broad with the god-given mammaries makin' killer omelets working the kitchen?"

Seris tried to stifle his laugh, "Marie."

"Yeah, yeah. Marie," Fox smiled just thinking about that chest of hers, "She still makin' omelets?"

"She works here on the weekends but now she's at Mirinda's else wise. She got a kid three years back and I just couldn't afford her full-time."

"A kid?"

"Yeah, you know. Cries a lot. Shits in the pants. Gotta feed it."

"No, no. I got it."

"She wants to save up enough to get off Eladard. You know they've been reporting instances of lung cancer as early as eight years old? Even with 97% of the planet atmospherically protected. Anyway, as far as I know she's still hangin' around Eladard until she can make enough to settle on Katina or Sauria or some other colony."

"Wow…" the news was sobering… too much for Fox at that BAC, "Hey, you mind topping me off for the road?" he held out the flask. Leo took it and asked what Fox wanted.

"Anything is fine."

"Give him the Shock Deterrent," Seris ordered. Leo reached to the top shelf and pulled down a frosted bottle. He filled Fox's flask to the top and handed it back to him. Fox closed it and put the bottle in his jacket pocket.

"Thanks." He got up to leave.

"Will we see you on Saturday?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided." He headed toward the door and put one hand on the guard, "Hey, what did she have?"

"Who?"

"Marie."

"A little girl. Cute one, too."

He turned to leave, "Thanks, Seris." He left the bar and walked through the covered, crowded Eladard streets. Above was the purple-black haze that blotted out the sky since Andross turned on his war machine. Around where shops and crowded houses selling all kinds of goods legal and otherwise. Some advertised simple things like drinks, sit-down dinners, and processed groceries. While those things were indeed sold, they tended to be code words for drugs, sex, and guns. Eladard was the most honest dishonest world around. The smog that hid the ground from orbital ocular enslavement did little to hide things from the ground view of filth, poverty, and grimy O2-N filters.

A few miles from Seris' grungier bar was a fooding and lodging. Fox had only been here once before and was pleased when the owner – a fat, balding avian – didn't recognize him, "Sign in, please." He handed Fox a virtu-pad and he pulled an ID out of his pocket.

"Cash up-front, Mr. Florent. Thirty a night. Fox put thirty credits on the country. The owner took it and stuffed it in his pocket before handing Fox a key, "5B. Any problems just holler."

Fox walked up to his room and locked the door. It was an unsavory place but it sure as hell beat sleeping on the street or Aquas prison. After scanning the room, it wasn't bad for thirty a night. A bed, a televisor, a nightstand, and a bathroom with the sink falling off the wall wasn't horrible. It certainly wasn't the worst place Fox had stayed for thirty a night. Of course, for that price, it meant his entire staff was illegal.

He dropped his jacket off on the floor and pulled the flask out of the pocket. Thanks to Seris, he had to work on getting drunk again. Fox flopped down onto the bed and opened the drawer to the nightstand. There was a copy of the Kudkhu which he glanced at for a moment before reaching for the remote control.

A few hours of pointless Canine dramas and a half bottle of ukuu mixed with vodka later and the room was starting to swirl. The knock on his door, however, was unexpected.

He let them knock. In a minute or so, they'd leave. Ten minutes later they were still knocking, "No thanks!" Fox shouted. _He _was the drug dealer. He didn't need door-to-door solicitation from some punk.

_Knock, knock, knock_.

"Hey! No, thank you!" the knocking was starting to reverberate in his head, "Do not disturb!"

_Knock. Knock. _

Fox picked himself up and poured himself into an upright position. He staggered over to the door and flung it open. Just before he was about to raise hell with whomever was ignoring his resistance, he saw a young Cerinian woman wearing a trench coat over her traditional clothes: often mistaken for a tribal bikini by uncultured Lylatians. She had huge green eyes and long hair that flowed down to the small of her back. Except for a few minor details, she looked just like _her_.

"You still want me to leave?" her accent was slight, as if she was practicing her Cornerian since grade school.

"Uh… no."

"You going to make me wait out here in the cold? I'll give you a closer look… inside."

"Oh… sure." Fox stepped aside and let her come in. He locked the door after her, "Ah, it's much warmer in here." She removed the coat and dropped it on the floor, "Can I just leave this anywhere?"

"Yeah, anywhere is fine."

She sat down on the bed and made herself comfortable, stretching out in the dim light of the televisor. She was incredibly beautiful and made Fox want to just climb on top of her and think of happier times with a different Cerinian girl, "I'm sorry, I don't normally do this."

"It's not your first time, is it?"

"Oh, uh, no it's not. I just don't normally, uh, sleep with… prostitutes."

"Neither do I!" she giggled, "You going to come over here and keep me warm, at least?"

Fox sat on the bed next to her. She leaned up and grabbed his hand which she moved to her thigh, right on top of the white sun tattoo, "You like?" he moved his hand up her thigh to her belly and her chest. She climbed on top of Fox, straddling his waist and pushing her breasts into his face.

"What's your name?" even normal questions sounded sexy coming from her voice.

Fox stumbled and said the first thing that came to his mind, "James. I'm James." His hands crept up her back to the knot that held her top up.

One of her hands shot back to hold his, "Not so fast, you call me Emerald. Got it? Nothing else."

"Yeah. Emerald." She let go of his hand and he untied her top, letting it fall to the floor with their jackets. He pressed his mouth to her chest, kissing her all along her neck, her collar, her nipples, until he felt a sharp tingling on his lips and tongue. He began to feel sleepy and dizzy all at the same time. He was about to say something but remembered her name was Emerald.

It was somewhat well known that prostitutes would sometimes put a sedative on their lips that would make clients pass out. They could then rob the john blind without ever having to do the deed. Some of these street walkers didn't know how to correctly apply the substance and ended up poisoning themselves. It was much safer to apply the sedative to one's nipple and let the poor, stupid guy suck.

"E… Em…" was all Fox managed before everything went dark.


	3. Peppy I

Chapter 3: Peppy I

"_House Phoenix claimed descent from the Prophets of Medieval Tsud. They also developed the harshest political system that flew directly in the face of the eight Prophets' commandment: be true and kind to the people, for they are the soil in which good governance is grown. (House Phoenix's favored method of control being the prison camp.)" – History of the Lylat System, Vol. I Corneria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

Every day for fifteen years began the same: a nutrient gruel accompanied the morning alarm bells. The gruel made Peppy throw up the first time he had it. It was a combination of sea creatures ground into mash-bones, scales, gizzards, and all-accompanied with vitamin powders. Not that the prison staff was particularly interested in feeding their inmates a proper diet, but mostly because the warden had a labor quota to reach whichhe couldn't on bread and desalinated water.

Years later, Peppy learned how to tell when the prison staff managed to catch a school of swordfish and when they only scraped up shrimp and crawdads from the ocean floor. He much preferred the swordfish o the shrimp which was often poorly ground and had bits of shell and eyes sticking out of the bowl.

This morning's was mussel which was always well-ground. At least they had the courtesy to de-shell them. It wasn't bad, Peppy saved his answer for _what would I rather be eating _for lunch. It was much more fun to play with other inmates.

After breakfast they were handed mining tools and brought to the tunnels where they dug deep into the Aquas seabed to some unknown purpose. Peppy had been theorizing for years but it all amounted to just a lot of notes he jotted down inside his head into three categories of narratives.

"Get up you wastes of life!" Captain Hadley called over the loudspeaker. The steel doors opened and the prisoners walked out for inspection. Guards came around and inspected the cells. There was nowhere to hide contraband and even less place to get it. The few things Peppy ever owned in the past decade and a half – a tiny notebook and stick of graphite, a comb, a pack of cigarettes – had been confiscated. For three years the only things he'd bothered to call his own was the itchy blanket and the mattress in his cell.

After inspection, the inmates were handed mining tools and herded to the mines. So began _Theory 1: _hard labor for hard labor's sake.

It was certainly not a new strategy. Cornerians used this during their history in their harsher political systems, and Andross often compared to the monsters of ancient times, at least to Peppy. And while Peppy was all too happy to resist his captors every step of the way for the first decade, he finally noticed positive changes not seen since he and James were cruising in Arwings capturing outlaws.

Swinging a hammer and carrying rocks lost Peppy his pot belly. Even moreso, he built muscles he hadn't seen since college. Day after day of hard labor cured Peppy's physique and after making peace with his situation, he slept better than ever before. So if the hard labor was meant as a mere punishment, Peppy no longer felt it.

The alarm rang. Lunch time.

Peppy put down his hammer and walked over to the carts that took them back to the main complex. In the main hall they ate their gruel as guards looked down on them with loaded rifles. The last time anyone was killed in the mess hall was six years ago. They since didn't disturb Peppy's meal.

His usual crew sat together. Peppy sat with an orange reptile, Skinny P, a couple of canine ex-soldiers, and a primate former lecturer at Corneria City University. At the end of the table, a young Earth Walker prince ate with them. He was already huge and since he was an Earth Walker, his main job was carrying rocks, not breaking them.

"Shrimp, again." The Professor grumped.

"Aw, shit." Skinny P threw down his spoon, "Seriously. We had mussels for breakfast. And all that was missing was a bit of lemon."

"Lemons," one of the ex-soldiers laughed, "wouldn't that have been something?"

"You know what I was actually thinking this morning?" Peppy asked to no one in particular, "A single cup of coffee in the morning would go so far here."

"Indeed," the Professor took up the helm, "Imagine if they were to introduce a rewards system. Everyday, the crew with the highest yield is given breakfast-of-choice."

There was a unanimous murmuer of approval. Prince Torriki was the first to speak up, "Oh I know just what I'd have. Beet root and radish stew. It'd be the _best_. Just a cup of that, really, is all I'd like."

"I'm right there with you, Prince. Add in some lettuce and a few diced carrots and that sounds delicious to me." Peppy winked in his direction.

"Well I could certainly go for some real meat. One I have to bit and chew, no mash." The other canine offered. Skinny P and the Professor agreed.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit with you guys?" the newcomer was a Cornerian: a skunk with a black coat and a smattering of chaotic white stripes. He was so obviously new because he still had fear in his eyes and plastered all over his face. He also had no muscles and most likely cranked a desk back over the waves.

"Sure, first day?" Peppy asked.

"Yeah… I'm still trying to understand it all. I mean, I didn't do anything wrong. Next thing I know I'm here." The skunk tried to explain.

The Professor explained through a mouthful of shrimp: "This ain't a prison for criminal wrong-doers. This is the _Aquaien Silence_. Those black-coated guys up there," he nodded to the guards, "That's not CDF. They have their own prisons in the Meteor Field. No, this place is run by the Oikonnys. And you're in this place because you did or said something they didn't like."

"So the question is: what exactly did you say?" Skinny P asked, "I was stupied enough to spray paint _Star Fox Lives _under a bridge. Not even political man. Just anti-establishment."

"I had the nerve to imply there was nothing inherently superior in primates over Vulpids or Canines in CCU." The Professor said.

"You taught at CCU?"the skunk asked.

"I did."

"I was writing a book there."

"About what?" Peppy asked.

"Star Fox."

"Did you write that we were anti-unification terrorists advocating anarcho-primitivism?"

"No… I was trying to be academic."

"Well there's your problem," an ex-soldier explained, "Anything but lands you here."

"What did you do?"

"Told my superior I was uncomfortable with this prison set up. Apparently that was all it took."

"They call it the _Silence _for a reason." Peppy said.

The newcomer turned to him, "What did you do?"

"I'm Peppy Hare."

"Wait… you are?" he asked. A smile widened across his face, "Sir, it's such a pleasure."

"I don't see why. I'm a part of the reason you're in here."

"Yes, but… wow! Really, I think Star Fox is such a fascinating chapter of history. They were the first independent shock soldiers to employ land-sea-and-space strategies in their battle tactics."

"You don't have to tell me, kid. I was there."

The newcomer laughed, "Sorry… it's just so surreal being here, meeting you." He took a bite of the shrimp mash and immediately spit it back onto the plate, "Oh my god! What is that?"

They all laughed, "Shrimp," the Professor answered, "You'll get used to it pretty fast. We all do."

"Jeez laweez… how long have you all been here?"

"Five years," the Professor said.

"Three," the ex-soldiers responded.

"A year next Saturday." Skinny P gave.

"Six," answered Prince Torriki.

"Fifteen," was Peppy's answer.

Lunch finished and they were herded back into the mines. There the newcomer was handed a pickaxe and told to follow along. He broke rocks with the others, but only half the speed. Peppy felt sorry for him as he did for every new fish that found his way to the ocean floor of Aquas. He was skinny and practically useless when it came to this kind of work. He finally stopped and looked at the guard watching them with a loaded rifle, "Excuse me," he offered meekly, "Is it all right if I take a rest? I'm really struggling here."

The guard wasn't the least bit amused, "What'd you say, dirt ball?" Peppy watched out of the corner of his eye wishing he had telepathic powers to just tell him to back off. Beat a retreat. Anything but walk right into his first _Silence_ beating.

"Just five minutes is all I ask. Please."

There was a moment of silence but for the bang of hammers against rock. Then there was a dull sound of the butt of a rifle impacting a soft gut. The wind raced out of the newcomers lungs and whatever was left in his stomach after his first crawdad mash came boiling up and out of his throat. The rifle came down again and again in rhythm with the hammers.

Involuntarily, his scent gland activated and released noxious gas into the cave. There was a murmur of disgust from their section of the tunnel. The guard backed away and held his nose while his victim lay bleeding on the ground, "Ugh. Good riddance." He pulled up his comm. Link and called for a medical evacuation in Tunnel 9, "If he doesn't wake up tomorrow, I might have just done us all a favor. Cross your fingers."

There were no hours down in the _Silence_. You worked until you were told to stop. This made rock beating seem like an endless activity. For all they knew, it could have been midnight or noontime on the surface when the alarms signaled the end of a crushing segment of work. When it did sound, the workers loaded their tools and final cargo of stones into the cart and rode it back up to the main complex.

Once again they ate alone in their cells. Dinner was lobster barely boiled. Peppy felt like laughing every time: lobster on Corneria was still considered a delicacy. But Corneria also had butter. Here they were given a pink shelled beast that was usually undercooked. Years ago, Peppy was about to break one open when a claw snapped at his fingers. Even unbuttered, Peppy didn't mind the cheap food. It was better than bread and water they fed him when the prison first opened. But just barely.

After dinner he would meditate until he began to fall asleep. As soon as his eyes closed, he rolled onto his blanket and didn't so much as sleep as he did wait for the morning alarm.

"Morning" was just a relative term. Peppy hadn't seen the sun for fifteen years. It was really just a "waking" alarm.

He noticed that tomorrow would be his anniversary. Day 5475 at the bottom of the ocean.


	4. Rayn I

**Trigger Warning: **Some M-rated material in this chapter. Skip over the shower scene if you're squeamish. It's only for like a paragraph or two though. Some important history and lore afterward.

Chapter 4: Rayn I

"_Andross was well known for his engineering expertise as well as his horrific military experiments. But he was far from the only engineer at the time. Somewhat ironically, General Pepper was fond of these experiments and was Andross' original funder. After Andross' exile, other engineers were brought in to do his work." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. 1 Corneria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

Moving target practice never got boring. The Colonel always changed the game, either by speeding up the targets or giving them new weapons to fire back with. Rayntook down three before they switched from assault rifles to rocket launchers. He jumped fifty feet before the explosion under his feet propelled him forward another hundred. He landed on his side at the base of the tower wall. Thankfully the Colonel didn't develop automatic rockets so the target took a moment to reload.

"Rayn, you A.C.?" Miyu called. A pair of cracks from her sniper rifle rang out. Rayn's armor did a lightning fast diagnostics check before it gave him the All-Clear and he stood up, "Yeah," he gathered his weapon and ran into the tower. Three broken targets. Their heads were snapped off and lying on the ground. Miyu was not only good with the rifle, but she was quick with the knife too.

"I'm at the base of the tower. Where should I go?" Rayn held his assault rifle to the doorway waiting for targets to come through and find them.

"Fay and Buck are getting stomped out in the north quadrant. It's three against two over there."

"Should I go and even things out?"

"I would grab that RL and head for the flag. Their sniper is feeling pretty bored just watching over it."

"Will do." Rayn rolled out of the doorway and held up his weapon. Nothing. He sprinted for the crest of the hill where the animatronic bodies of three targets were lying torn through with bullet wounds. The one on the ground missing a head was still clutching a red rocket launcher. He pried it from the robot hands and started jogging to the west quad. Through trees, rocks, and physical barriers he encountered only enough resistance to prove troublesome. No doubt his position was compromised and the sniper knew he was coming. The tower was the obvious nest but it was common for the Garudas to ignore the more blatant location in favor of less defensible but more hidden locations. There was nothing as high as the Tower and nothing quite so obvious. Jane had to be in the forest up one of the trees.

As if to answer his suspicious, a sniper's _crack _rang out nicking his shoulder plate. He dropped to the ground and stayed below the sightline… or so he hoped.

As he lifted his head from behind the next boulder the sound of low-altitude gravity-diffusers whirred in from overhead. A half dozen dropships landed and poured out twenty-five soldiers dressed in black and green camo heavily armed. Jane took out two before a barrage of rockets took out the sniper. A moment later they took out Rayn.

"Contingency plans," Colonel Pepper was saying twenty minutes later to the two teams. He had on his usual rough scowl and a pair of dark sunglasses. His red uniform was polished and pressed to perfection with a mix of campaign decorations and achievement medals, "Did you know that reinforcements would arrive?"

"No, sir." All eight of them answered.

"Did you plan for that contingency?"

"Not appropriately, sir." It was only Rayn that time.

"So you did plan?"

"We planned simply to make a full tactical retreat. The reinforcements arrived too soon for us to make much effort."

"Oh, well why didn't you ask them to wait for your team to recollect, Captain Rayn?"

He stayed silent. When the Colonel was asking rhetorical questions you stayed silent and stared ahead. Colonel Pepper was so close to Rayn's face that the soldier could feel the breath on his nose, "No, sir. But in this sort of situation there was nothing to do. With victory impossible and defeat highly probable, retreat is the only option before surrender is irrelevant."

Pepper smiled darkly, "Damn right, son." He stepped and barked, "Hit the showers."

The showers in the facility were separated between the fifty or so Shock Action Special Forces and the couple of hundred of grunts: wash-outs from previous fueled programs or guys unsuited to clear out pirates from Meteo or the colonization efforts on Sauria. Katina was considered _safe _and the most densely populated planet after Corneria. Still, it held only 5% of the system's sentient population.

Grey Team showered together. Rayn, Fay, Miyu, and Buck teased and pushed each other talking about the battle as they washed. Buck recounted their heroic stance against not an equal force, but an enemy of _three_. A whole one-point-five of their attacking force.

Rayn just had to smile and nod while he shampooed his body. Buck was the kind of hero the people on Corneria would love. He was loud and told a good story. Maybe someday they would get an opportunity to be paraded through the streets as heroes, waving and kissing babies and offering the people a distraction from bitter victory.

He'd only been a part of a real war once: years ago when the Aparoids invaded and they were only twelve. They'd taken part of guerilla war on the ground in the Katina savannah figuring out what worked and what didn't. After General Dengar led them to bloody victory outside the capital space zone, Rayn, Fay, Miyu, Buck and the 46 other SASF's were given three days leave to be paraded through the streets of Katina with the other heroes. They stole brief glimpses of commandos and soldiers they'd heard about all their lives but never got a chance to see: General Dengar, the future General Oikonny, Colonel Lombardi, plenty others, but Rayn wondered where Fox McCloud was.

Every soldier enrolled in the Command Shock Action Center knew and studied Fox McCloud. His air tactical maneuvers as well as his ground combat were spectacular. In fact, the only thing Fox and his party had going against them was numbers. If they had only a few more Fox McClouds, or maybe the enemy a little less, the war might've been won.

So Colonel Pepper said. He made it clear that he was on the losing side of whatever war it was that he knew Fox McCloud. Was Fox on the losing side too? If he was dead, they never told him. Rayn knew by now there was no sense in asking for biographical information they didn't readily offer.

"We'll meet you inside." Buck and Fay grabbed towels and shut the water off. As they left, Fay gave Miyu a wink before closing the door.

The second it slammed shut, Rayn turned and reached for Miyu. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his. Their lips met and they tied their tongues together as Rayn fumbled with his manhood. Miyu, still locked in his caress, pushed his hand away, telling him to keep her from falling. When she was safely suspended between her lover and the shower wall, she moved a hand and slipped Rayn inside of her.

The roar of hot water through the pipes drowned out their love-making. In all their years at the base, nothing ever forbid romantic attachments, but it was an ambiguity neither was willing to explore. The network of relationships among the SASF's ran so extensively that it seemed impossible for Dr. Toki or General Powalski not to know. But as far as Miyu and Rayn were concerned, until they were told to stop, it didn't present a problem.

He finished inside of her, the shampoo completely off their bodies, Rayn's arms aching from holding Miyu up and the battle finished only an hour before. She pulled herself off of him and stood on the wet floor as Rayn leaned against the wall and caught his breath, "You good?" she picked up the soap and finished cleaning herself. Rayn was still leaning against the wall with an ear-to-ear smile on his face.

"Was it really that good?" she shut the water off.

"It always is." Rayn straightened and kissed Miyu's cheek, "Believe me." The reality was simply that neither Miyu nor Rayn had ever been with another. They were each other's first, and as far as they were concerned, each other's last. While the other SASF's went around swapping partners in complicated relationships, Rayn never tired of squeezing Miyu's hand and pulling her close to say, "I'm your partner."

"Well, come on, partner. They must be waiting for us." She grabbed a towel and began drying off, handing one to Rayn after. They both walked out, grabbing dry suits and heading into Dr. Toki's interview room. Dr. Toki, like Miyu, was lynxic with dark brown fur and black stripes. Rayn always thought of Miyu whenever he saw her, plus fifteen years, but never saw the Doc with anyone. As far as the Shockers were concerned, she lived in the dark interrogation room with a table bolted to the floor.

Miyu slipped into her dry suit and walked into Dr. Toki's room. Rayn waited about fifteen minutes for the light on the door to switch from red to green. It meant Miyu's interview was over and Rayn should go inside and talk to the good doctor.

She had a plastic cup of tea waiting for him when he opened the door. He sat down and began to sip the herbal concoction while he glanced up and down Dr. Toki. She _did _look like Miyu, but it was more than just a racial resemblance. They shared the same kind eyes, the same nose twitch, and the same kink on their ear shape.

"How are you doing, Rayn?"

"Really well, Doc. What's in the tea this time?"

"Sage and nettle."

"It's good."

"You like it?"

"Oh yeah. Much better than that black crap you were serving us for years."

"Rayn, I haven't had black tea since before the Aparoid War." Rayn laughed, "You know I've been experimenting with different plants ever since then."

"How many fields do you practice in?"

"All of them. That's why I'm angry so often. I'm usually being asked to give speeches or guest lectures."

Rayn had wondered that. The Doc was available to any Shocker that just wanted to speak to her. A lot of themtook the opportunity especially during periods of burn out. But they often met with General Powalski who would record their monologues and send them to Dr. Toki over the net. Rayn always knew she was smart but never truly understood _how _smart she was.

Indeed, it was probably impossible for anyone to truly understand that mystery.

"So tell me about thisloss." She wasn't military, but Rayn and his fellow Shockers obeyed every order like she was the goddamn Empress.

"Wasn't much to it, really. Colonel overwhelmed us all to teach us that sometimes victory is simply impossible."

"Why couldn't you retreat?"

"That wasn't possible either. We had nowhere to retreat to and no time to do it. Eight against a hundred isn't exactly brilliant odds to begin with. They had greater fire power and a divided – both geographically and objectively – host. So… yeah."

"Has Colonel Pepper done this to you before?"

"No. That's why it was unexpected."

"What about historical precedents? You've been given extensive lessons in history so there must have been something…"

Rayn thought back on his history lessons, "No. All of the overwhelming victories I can think of were slam-dunks. Nothing in class covered defenses in this manner. I mean, even Colonel Pepper said I was right that sometimes defeat is inevitable and retreat impossible."

"Why do you think the Colonel said that?" Before Rayn could answer, an alert popped up on her glass tablet. She glanced over at it and hit the DISMISS button. He was quick enough to notice that the notification came from General Powalski before the message disappeared into the screen. She looked up at Rayn after the interruption and said, "Sorry about that."

Rayn was almost done with his tea, "The Colonel has never been shy that he was on the losing side of the War. The one before the Aparoids."

"He hasn't? Tell me about that."

"I can only tell you what I know from the vids and books they give us. But it was Andross versus the Cornerian Republic. The Republic's scientific policies kept it from advancing and the military policies kept it from defending itself. Mercenaries and pirates plagued all inter-stellar commerce and destroyed the integrity of the Republic. Merchant guilds and feudal familiar began to bend Parliament to its will before Andross unleashed an overwhelming attack that forced Parliament to recognize Oikonny hegemony."

"And Colonel Pepper was on the losing side of that war?"

"Sounds like it. Based on the history files, he didn't have much of an army to fight with so at least the Emperor seems to have that relatively under control."

"Do you think it's possible the Colonel was demoted for his efforts against Andross?"

"Of course. It's pretty obvious, actually."

"Really? Obvious?"

"Yeah. But to Andross' credit, he saw a man that was a force to be reckoned with. Instead of letting Pepper rot in some prison he has him here training soldiers."

Dr. Toki pulled out her notebook and wrote something down long hand, "Why do you do that?" Rayn asked.

"Do what?"

"Write with a pen and paper? Isn't this all recorded electronically?"

"True… it is. But sometimes you have to do some things by hand." The pen and notebook disappeared into her jacket pocket, "Some things you say are important and I want to remember them better for the future. Hence, the notebook."

"What did I say?"

"Some things about the Colonel." Before Rayn could ask what, she stood and picked up the tablet, "I think that's enough for today. Go have lunch and your evening class."

Rayn stood and obeyed, "Thanks for the tea, Doc."


	5. Zamo I

**Content Notice: **This will all be explained in greater detail in due time, but here's a quick primer on some of the Cerinian-Saurian words used in this chapter:

_Bxuduko_: "bhu-due-ko," lit. "Khanate" a Mongol word synonymous with "Empire"

_Bxodte_: "bho-d-te," lit. "Khendu" a Tibetan word literally meaning "Sky-Dancer" referring to the Sanskrit "Dakinis." It refers to female spirits, in this case female reincarnates commanding respect similar to (or greater than) a Queen.

_Kichi_: "key-chee," lit. "Tulku" a Tibetan word referring to the system of reincarnation and recognition that were all at once civil, educational, political, and religious authorities in Pre-1959 Tibet, and currently the Cerinian Bxuduko in Exile

_Hadfesxo_: "had-fesh-ho," lit. "Rinpoche" a Tibetan word meaning "Precious One." A name given to male Reincarnates. Females are given "Khendu" in Tibet, "Boxdte" in Cerinia and Sauria.

_Kcosxi_: "k-sho-shi," lit. "Tsechu" a Tibetan word meaning "Day Ten." Used in Bhutan to refer to the popular festivals that occur at least once in every Dzongkhag (province) and twice in some.

_Xikibki_: "hhi-kib-kee," lit. "Hutuktu" the Mongol Tulku who ruled over Mongolia in a similar manner and structure as the Dalai Lamas ruled over Tibet. The Xikibki ruled over large parts of Cerinian society until the Exile when he ruled over all of it. Rha Zamo Tehzo, the point of view character of this chapter, is the incumbent and in his minority, leaving the Cerinian Bxuduko in Exile ruled by his mother, Rha Normo Bxodte.

Chapter 5: Zamo I

"_The Kichi system of reincarnated teachers worked well on Cerinia to institute some continuity of political – and religious – philosophy. The Cerinians and their close cousins, the Saurians, tweaked this system. Every political crisis, from the dissolution of the Cerinian Buxduko, to the Diaspora, and the fall of the Jooteg Ruco Buxduko, served to advance and strengthen the Kichi system. The most prominent of these Hadfesxo being the Xikibki, who relocated his entire court to Sauria after the destruction of Cerinia." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. 4 Sauria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University _

He hated sitting with mother during these sessions. She sat atop the ancient throne and he at her right side. The vast majority of the people who came to present offerings and ask for blessings prostrated to him first before bowing to her. For that reason, even at nine years old, Zamo wasn't allowed to look bored. Years ago, Zamo asked Wudtod Khafu why he had to sit with the Queen during the court hearings. He did not like Khafu's response: "So that you may learn. One day, ultimately, you will rule."

"But I don't learn anything! I don't understand when the people come. And I understand less when they talk."

"One day you will," Khafu said, "For now, it is important that the people see you, become familiar with your presence, and one day, they will respect you as they once did your mother."

When a Krazoan priest from the Ice Mountains complained to Mother about their hunting rights and the conflictual border with the Cornerians (or the Earthwalkers, Zamo always confused the two), he looked over at Wudtod Khafu and thought of the distant day he might rule.

"The Earthwalkers don't even inhabit the mountains. Why would they dispute the boundaries for hunting with your village?" Mother shook her head signaling that she already knew the answer to her own question, "Never mind." She turned to Hite and said, "Send a messenger to Cloudrunner Fortress and one to our ambassador in Walled City. We will meet with Grey and the Two Kings and find out what they want this time. If only _they _respected the rules of proper civilization."

Hite was a member of the Jootag tribe. They wore distinctive red and white tunics that hid a half dozen tools inside. Instead of a staff or spear, they favored a long iron blade that jutted out from the hilt and widened at the end. The weight of the sword made it ideal for headhunting: the Jootag's favorite pastime, "Yes, Boxdte," he said with a bow.

Hite stood to Mother's left, and next to him was her other primary advisor Zexd. Zexd was a Bonobist convert, and earned the ire of at least a quarter of Saurians and all of the Cerinians. When contact between Corneria and Sauria was first established, an apocalyptic faith among the Primate community, the Bonobists, funded a half-dozen missions to bring their message of "Spiritual enlightenment through sexual liberty and modesty." The Bonobists, despite being late-comers were one of the most powerful factions on Sauria. Many claimed they were responsible for the downfall of the Jootag Buxduko.

"Zexd," Mother called, "Can you send a message to your mission?"

"Yes, Boxdte. What would you like me to say?"

"Tell them we may be preparing for war with the Saurians again and we would like their support. Especially regarding aircraft."

"They will most likely require opening a new temple. Most likely twoor three before they begin to negotiate military hardware. Perhaps the Ice Mountains, the Aggasiz Vales, and Jootag Hollow." It was not lost on Zamo that Zexd worked for two masters: his Mother, and another distant force.

"Do not give them _any_ land without confirmation that we _will _receive arms. No empty promises from the Vale." Mother commanded.

"Yes, Boxdte." Zexd bowed and returned to his place.

The Queen stood. The rest of the court turned and prostrated towards her. Or him, Zamo wasn't entirely certain. The herald blew the conch shell as Mother held out her hand for Zamo to grasp. He took it and she pulled him gently so they descended the steps of the Throne together and down past robes of every color from fire to water, as Hite followed behind with a hand on his sword.

"All present take refuge in Her Graciousness, Rha Normo Boxdte, Queen Krystal of Cerinia, the Mother of our Present Lord, Rha Zamo Tehzo, twenty-third Xikibki Hadfsxo."

Once the main doors to the Throne room had closed, Mother turned to Zamo and said, "You did well today," even though he didn't do anything. She knelt next to him and said, "I know you don't fully understand yet, but it's important that the people see you. You are the incarnation of our country and their hope. Soon you will come into your own."

Zamo learned to just stand and listen when Mother tried encouraging him. Wudtod Khafu arrived with Hite. Khafu took Zamo's hand and said, "Come, young prince, it's time for your lessons."

Mother kissed him on the forehead and pat his ear, "Do well."

Zamo nodded. She turned and left with Hite to other parts of the Palace. Wudtod Khafu began to lead Zamo across the bridge over the ocean cliffs to the village beyond. The Krazoa Palace, as imposing as it was, also served as something of an aristocratic resort. The only permanent residents were the Royal family and the serf class that kept the small society operating. In between there was space for middle or noble Cerinian (and occasionally Saurian) families to rent out for a month or two. The accommodations were grand: full course meals, servants, complimentary access to the high religious officials…

It was these people that Zamo felt the greatest need to ignore. The noble children approached him as a demigod. They too were dressed in their finest clothes wearing jewelry and rich headbands of gold and jade. It was too much like being at court for Zamo to enjoy any part of it. The serf children, at least in Zamo's mind, were more interesting.

They passed the gawking onlookers and finally reached the royal living quarters. Scoria, a Sharpclawess – and a Bonobist convert – greeted them at the door, "Welcome home young Lord, and Rha Khafu. Can I get you anything?"

Non-celibate religious officials were allowed to have a spouse and three concubines at a time. Hite and Scoria were Mother's concubines. He'd only heard bits and pieces of the stories, but from what Zamo gathered, Mother had never been married… so his father must have been the _Third _Concubine. The one she never replaced.

He was a warrior.

He was a Cornerian.

He was desirable.

Those were the only three things Zamo knew about _him; _for that was the euphemism he was referred to by. Hite was a warrior, but certainly not Cornerian. Scoria was desirable (secretly, every Cornerian wanted a Sharpclawess in their bed, just to see what it was like) but neither Cornerian nor a man. The Wudtod Khafu was a celibate official, but while it was not unheard of for a monk to break his vows, the Khafu was not Cornerian.

Living as a fatherless god-king with your mother's lovers made one's head spin.

"Zamo," Khafu called, "Did you hear what I said?"

He removed his attention from the bowl of sweet rice and the sounds of play coming from the outside, "History of Cerinia."

"Yes," Khafu said, "the Migration."

"The Migration," Zamo heard this story since he was born and knew many of the personal narratives from people that survived it – including Khafu and Mother, "In 2590 the Skyward Swords descended onto Cerinia and demanded tribute, announcing we were now a part of their Republic."

"Correct. And did the Cerinians capitulate?"

"Yes. Grandfather…"

"Who was?"

"Twenty-third Xikibki Hadfesxo."

"That's _you_."

"My mistake," he felt foolish, "Twenty-second Xikibki Hadfesxo…"

"Are you distracted, Zamo?"

"I… I…" he could not bring himself into the present. The laughter of the village children drifted inside and demanded his attention. So what if he was destined to lead his people? Would the people want him to be miserable?

"What has your thoughts?" Khafu asked.

"The children outside. I want to play with them."

"You need to stay here and contrive your primary studies, Zamo. The Xikibki does not have the liberty to while away his days playing dodge and skip."

"But I am a child too. Like them. The Xikibki can be both. Can't he?"

"Yes. All Xikibkis, indeed all Kichis, have gone through the cycles of birth, growth, decay, and death."

"Then why can't I be Xikibki for my lessons, but also have time to be a child?"

At first, Khafu seemed like he would refuse and demand another historical question from Zamo. But after a moment, his mouth twisted into a smile and he began laughing, "Go then! Go play but be back for evening meal or your mother will have my tail!"

He jumped from his seat and flew down the stairs outside the study, whizzing past Scoria so fast he didn't hear what she asked of him. He let the ceremonial parts of his robe and dress fall to the dusty road but found that he couldn't part with the bejeweled headdress even in his elated state of happiness at finally joining the other children at one of their games.

When he found them, six boys and three girls all standing in awe of him, he had lost all of his words. One by one, they fell to their knees and stretched their hands out over their heads as they whispered mantras. The ball they were playing with fell to the floor and rolled across the gymnasium to Zamo's feet. He carefully picked it up and held it out with the simple phrase, "Want to play?"

One boy picked up his head. Zamo instantly recognized him as the plumber's son. He was being apprenticed by his father to continue on the latter's work in the Palace and surrounding villages, "Why do _you _want to play with us?" he asked. Zamo distinctly remembered seeing the plumber's son climb out of a sewer in wet clothes and reeking of filth. At the time he was dressed in a golden ceremonial robe and was walking with Mother, dressed in a silver ceremonial gown, to kcosxi festival. After seeing a man and his boy covered in shit on kcosxi festival, Zamo asked Khafu why some people had to work while he got to enjoy the celebration, "There are three classes of people. The lowest one works so the top two can enjoy things like festivals and that lifestyle."

Zamo considered this information while the boy stared him down. The others eventually followed his lead and rose. The plumber's son broke that tense reverent silence and asked, "What do you want to play?"

"Whatever you were playing before, "Zamo said, "I just want to join."

"It's… uh…" another boy, "I'm sorry Holy Xikibki…"

"No, no," he found it hard to turn off the courtly attitude, "Speak freely." Even outside the Palace, court followed him around.

"It's just that, we wouldn't want to hurt you in our game."

"And it's not really fair, you know," the plumber's son added, "You're the Xikibki, endowed with all of the powers of the Krazoa. How are we supposed to compete?"

"No! I wouldn't cheat. I promise. I just want to play."

None of them seemed certain what to do. One of the girls stepped up and said, "We could try a few rounds. It can't hurt."

A wicked smile crossed the plumber's boy's lips, "No powers, right?"

Zamo didn't have any control whatsoever of his apparent psychokinetic capabilities. Training wasn't supposed to begin for him for another four years. Any sooner and the trainer's energy could be wasted on leftover echoes of the child's ancestors, not on a gifted telepath. But just by being the Xikibki, the children of the village seemed to believe he was way more gifted than in reality, "No powers. Of course."

"All right, then!" the other children responded to the plumber's boy's volume. They all stood erect and split, "Same teams!" Zamo quickly learned the boy's name was Many and judging how Manu was very quick to throw the ball, at him, Many was his in-game enemy. Zamo ducked so fast he felt to the dirt.

"Wait!" he called, "I don't know how to play!"

The children didn't stop. But a girl came up to him with all of her earrings on one ear and none in the other, "Don't worry, I'll help you!" she held his arm and helped him get back to his feet, "The other team has to pick up a ball. Before you can throw it at the other team, you have to throw it in the air and one of your other teammates has to catch it. Do that twice and the ball is _charged_."

Zamo watched the process unfold. Once a ball on the opposite half of the court was _charged, _Manu threw it at Zamo. He didn't panic this time. Instead, he caught the ball, "Good!" she yelled excitedly, "Now if you were hit once, that catch _heals _you."

Her explanation was poorly timed. A ball came flying from their left flank and hit her on the side, "Ah!" she picked up the ball, "Being hit once means I'm _wounded_. If I get hit again I'm _out_." They threw their balls up to charge. Zamo was liking this game. They did it again. She pointed to a boy from the opposite team, "Him!" they threw their balls simultaneously. They hit the boy one after the other knocking him or his tail, "Out!" the girl yelled.

"What is this game called?"

"_War_."

A ball came out from nowhere and hit her on the side of the head. It came with such force that it knocked her to the ground and sent up a cloud of dust. The ball bounced off of her head and back into Manu's arms. He laughed as she tried to get up.

"_Ahh!_" she rolled onto her tail and wiped the blood from her snout, "Manu! You son of a whore!"

"Language!" Manu was still chuckling, "You think your lawyer daddy would like to hear you talk like that?"

"_Fuck _you." She spat.

He sucked on his teeth, "Doesn't change the fact that you're _dead_."

_Dead_. Not _out._

"C'mon, now, get off the court." She obeyed. When Zamo looked around there was only two of them left. The entire court was empty, "Looks like it's just you and me, Xikibki."

One of the other children shouted from the outside, "Game's over, Manu. Don't take advantage because he doesn't know the rules."

"_Shut up!_" Manu screamed, "He stepped onto _my _court. You all saw it. _He _came to _me _and said he wanted to play. So for once, _I _make the rules." Many had a frightening look in his eyes. It was a look that sent Zamo's teeth chattering and his skin stand up. He remembered seeing that look only once before Hite and his men captured and killed a dozen Sharpclaw assassins. The Sharpclaw, Mother called them Spirit Dancers, were brought to court to speak to their crimes. One of them – huge, hulking, writhing orange scales beneath chains barely keeping him under check – slipped into a trance and began screaming. Red foam dripped from his mouth as his eyes fixed on Zamo and his chains threatened to snap. Hite managed to get the prisoner's under control before their execution. After that night, when Zamo had stopped crying, Mother had to explain to him what the words "rape" and "corpse" meant. She also told him, "You are the blood of Cerinia. And you are the god-king of our people. Even as a child, you must not show fear."

"What are the rules." Zamo called.

"Since there's only one person per team, you can't charge the ball." A boy explained, "Uncharged balls have no effect. The game is over. Technically, no one ever wins at _War_."

The look in Manu's eyes said otherwise, "C'mon, Holiness, it'sjust a game." He threw the ball up in the air once as a mock charge, "You can't tell me you're scared?" he threw it up again.

Zamo closed his eyes and when he opened them, saw only a vicious Spirit Dancer, "No."

As if the ball was actually charged with psychic energy, it flew at Zamo. For a split second he was certain the thing would crush his face. But something or someone else took hold of him, leapt into the air, caught the ball, and rolled to safety.

He isn't too sure what happened next, but for the rest of his life, Zamo never forgot how he felt:

He lifted the ball to throw it, but felt possessed. As if he was a puppet aware of the strings, but without the independent ability to turn his head and see the puppeteer. He felt the world slow to a crawl and instead of the children in front of him, he saw their entire lives. He saw boys grow up and die in war. He saw the girls have children, become grandmothers, and die. He saw old men full of grief. Old ladies yearn for youth. And in the end he saw skulls and bones and death. Corpses. His green puppet eyes fixed on Manu. He commanded, "_Drop dead!_"

And he did.

Manu flew back as if hit and collapsed in a flurry of dust. He didn't make a noise or move. For the longest time, there was complete silence. He felt himself scream, but didn't hear a thing. Who or whatever it was that possessed him had passed. Leaving only a shadow and a void in its wake. Zamo felt weak and fell to his knees. Darkness overtook him and he no longer felt.

An undetermined amount of time later, he was lying on his bed in the Palace. Khafu and Scoria were feeding him water and praying. There was a rag on his forehead to bring him to. Lots of noise surrounded them. Lots of _emotions_: anger, confusion, betrayal, fury, sadness, grief, violence. Khafu refused to let them question him. It was useless, anyway, Zamo could barely remember anything. It was a mystery deepened by his clenched fingers. Scoria pried each one loose and picked up the ball, "Zamo, why are you still holding this?"

The ball never left his hand.


	6. Fox II

Chapter 6: Fox II

"_The Battle of Sector Z was the last of the hostilities of the Lylat War. Andross had the Star Fox team hunted down with an almost obsessive compulsion. It resulted in the capture of at least two team members, the near-destruction of the Great Fox, and the exile of Fox McCloud. The disappearance of the mercenary led directly to the system-wide Purge in which a full 2% of the Corneria's population was killed and the rest prepared for starvation, disease, and complete economic collapse." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. 1 Corneria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

_Haven't I told you to never give up? _The voice echoed in his ears. Sobriety was the enemy when it came to manifestations of his father. _Son, how many times can I say it? _Fox once asked her why: it was counterintuitive to think that a sober mind is more flexible and more prone to mind emanations than an inebriated mind. "You would think that," she said, "but it has more to do with alcohol disrupting response time and nerve signals. The emanation may try to penetrate your drunk psyche, but can't find a way out."

_I have something very important to tell you_.

"What is it?" Fox asked. He was regaining feeling in his hand and feet, "Tell me."

_Can you hear me?_

"Yes."

"_Can you hear me?" _

The voice lost his father's masculine cadence and sounded rather… feminine. Fox managed to open his eyes and found himself below a bright light with a silhouette of a figure staring down at him. Two large ears made it seem like Dad at first, but colors entered the mix and James McCloud certainly did not have pink fur.

Another head entered the equation. This one amphibious, "His vitals are good," she said, "He'll be out of it in a second."

"Fox, can you hear me?"

It was a voice he hadn't heard in well over a decade. They met in flight school. Had a fling before she fell for… what was his name? Luckily he met Fara after that. They met up briefly in the War. Zoness. And the polluted Sea of Sorrows. They blew up twenty-three lighthouses together. Yes, it was coming back to him.

"Katt?"

She smiled, "Hey, there, lover boy."

"What the hell?"

"Sorry about that," the amphibian said, "We weren't 100%sure how to handle all of this. We just wanted to be careful and avoid detection." She put away her instrument, "You can sit up now if you need to. Slowly, though."

Fox held his head and lifted his body as carefully as possible, "I'm sorry, you are?"

"How rude of me!" she held out her hand, "Amanda Pondder. Medical officer of _Slippy's Girls _here on the _Great Fox_." Katt shook her head and tried to shush Amanda but it was already too late.

"_What?_" Fox shot towards Katt looking for an explanation.

"Get dressed. I'll tell you everything." The feline mercenary tapped his bare shoulder and headed for the door, "C'mon, Mandii." It slid open with a familiar _hiss_. She turned to Fox and said, "Good to see you, Fox." They left and the door hissed shut.

Fox put on his shirt – hanging loosely off what he could only assume was a sterile counter. The infirmary was a room Fox spent a great deal of time in during the war. Star Fox never thought to get a medical officer so the four of them were constantly doing first aid on each other. Not until she joined the team did the infirmary look half as good as this. Fox hissed the door open and walked out into the corridor. "Let's see the hangar." Katt said, offering Fox a tour of his own ship.

The _Great Fox, _powerful as she was, was really just a big spacecraft carrier with two magnetic shredder round cannons. It was mostly hollow to save room for a maximum of eight spacecraft and six other vehicles. The hangar here, however, was mostly empty. It held three Arwings in perfect condition, one and a half Landmasters, the Blue Marine covered in algae out of control, Katt's pink ship almost entirely devoid of paint, and Fox's very recognizable and in-need-of-replacing Arwing.

There was a pair of legs sticking out from behind the ship's engine. Mechanical noises echoed through the chamber. Katt led Fox across the metal staircase down to his Arwing. He was surprised to recognize the blue face staring back at him.

"Fox, this is our mechanic, Emerald."

She smiled at him. It was a knowing smile that two lovers would normally share after they put their clothes back on and reentered the world. Except they never made love. All Fox did was suck on her nipple. All Emerald did was poison him to kidnap and bring him to this ship, "Yeah, we've met."

"It's actually nice to see you, Fox." She held out her hand, "No hard feelings?" Fox had a lot of hard feelings, but certainly felt like he shouldn't. If anything, he was confused and tired and sober. He didn't feel like he had an honest reason to be upset. Other than a late case of blue balls, so to speak. He took her hand, "Don't worry," she said, "I'm just doing some necessary repairs on your Arwing. It'll be good as new when I'm done with it."

"We've almost got a fully functional squadron." Katt explained. A working Landmaster and Submarine. And with yours, four pristine Arwings." She gestured to the vehicles, "All thanks to Em, here. Kickass, right?"

Fox didn't answer.

"I know it's a lot to take in… let's move on ahead. We'll talk technicalities later." She led Fox out of the hangar and to the corridor. She showed him the mess, the dorms, and even the engine room. The theme of the tour was _look at all the fix ups we made! _But Fox was stuck in the past. All he could see were memories from the war. He saw himself getting drunk with the team in the mess. He saw late night card games in the dorm. The first time he kissed _her _was in the engine room after three cups of ukuu. Behind all those memories were explosions, gun fire, and a fair share of blood. He remembered working on his Arwing when a courier came to tell him about the failed mission on Venom. Or when Wolf came and gut shot him in broad daylight. The _Great Fox _was a big empty ship that McCloud and Phoenix money filled with military hardware, but Fox filled with pain and blood.

"Why…" Fox began, as Katt led him to the bridge, "No. Not why, _how?" _

"How, what?"

"How did you do all of this?"

"After the Battle of Sector Z, the Venomians just left the wreck here. Lucy and I escaped the Purge and eventually got the bright idea to find the _Fox _and try to fix it up. Those missiles did a number o9n the old girl. You should've seen it, Fox. Missing a wing and a half, we had to restore life support one room at a time. It was excruciating. You should've seen our surprise when we found Slippy in cryo."

"Wait, _what_?" he couldn't believe his ears.

"We thought for sure he was dead, but there he was. He must have put himself in stasis as the _Great Fox _was going down. ROB 64 saved the whole ship, pushing it inside the nebula to hide it from enemy forces. It took the four of us a year to locate it."

"Slippy… he's alive?"

"Well," there was a microscopic pause, "Yes."

He could hardly contain his excitement. All these years and he thought his high school best friend went down with the ship. To find him alive…

"Show me!"

Katt led him to the bridge, "Just… one thing." She held her hand over the control panel to open the door, "Manage your expectations." Even still, Fox could barely contain his excitement. She punched in the four digit code that opened the door and revealed a dark bridge with the huge view out into space. Here the view was the still glowing red and orange dust of Sector Z. It illuminated the bridge to show a carnival-esque version of how Fox remembered it: mechanical schematics and planetary paper maps were scattered across the floor with no semblance of order or meaning, a dozen mysterious machines were likewise, a funhouse imitation of ROB 64 was grafted to the wall with eight arms coming out of his "body" which now extended across the bridge, over on the far side of the room by the jukebox, Slippy Toad was sitting on the floor tinkering with a machine. In the center was a dusty old chair. A white vest was draped over the back, a dark console attached to the arm rest, and a familiar knife sitting in the seat. Lucy Hare was configuring software at the communications console.

She picked up her head first, "Fox!" she looked haggard and exhausted. Like she hadn't slept since Fox last saw her 20 year ago. She put down the console and walked over to kissed Fox on the cheek, "Good to see you again."

"You too, Luce." He pushed past her and stepped closer to Slippy, "Slip? Is that really you?"

Slippy said nothing, seemed not to hear Fox at all. When Fox reached a hand to Slippy's shoulder, the screw driver he was using flew up and almost stabbed Fox in the hand. Instead it hit the juke box which started playing Explosions in the Sky, "If I've told you once, I told you a thousand times you wretched girl you don't interrupt a torrent as it crashed to the ocean! Do you want to fall under a stampeded of water?" But loose recognition filled his eyes and he finally smiled, "Oh… oh, Captain. No. That was long ago… Surely you're an Admiral now, come to see your old hunting grounds. I assure you, they've much improved. Come, come look and see the vast field." He stood and took Fox's hand, leading him to the central chair, "Look! Just as you left it. I wouldn't let them touch it as my name's not Slippy B. Toad. Go ahead, ask the mistress of the house. She cares for us and knows just how particular and tight we keep this ship. Don't worry, Admiral, you were right to put me in charge while you were off fighting. Have I ever let you down?" A piece of the machine he was holding clattered to the floor. Slippy picked it up as quickly as it fell and said, "Woop! See how quickly things fall apart? If it wasn't for ROB 6400 and me, who knows where this ship would be?" he scurried off to the juke box and pulled the screwdrivers out of the metal to continue working.

Unprovoked, Katt offered an explanation, "Cryo is a very crude process. In the emergency state it took him to get there, he was lucky to have survived at all." She walked closer to Fox and sighed, "He was in there for almost a decade. Any longer and his language centers would have been rewired. But if anything all that mechanical genius has been enhanced. The _Great Fox, _on paper, has way more power and maneuverability than it ever did. Andross won't know what hit him."

Fox let his hand fall to the command chair, "What?" he turned to glare at Katt.

"It started when we found the _Great Fox_. We wanted to use it as a base to unite all anti-Oikonny resistance groups. But then we found Slippy and we knew that if we could rebuild the old Star Fox team, we could add a whole new level of legitimacy. There are still people out there shouting_ Fox lives! _in Victory Square."

"Between me and Slippy, you have one full Star Fox member."

"And we know we can get the other two." Katt said overconfidently.

"What? How? Falco has _turned_. He's a goddamn traitor. And Peppy is _dead_."

"No he's not!" Lucy stepped in front of Katt, "I infiltrated the security system. They wouldn't kill Peppy without a big public execution like they did with Dr. Beltino. I know for a fact my Dad is locked in the _Aquas Silence_."

"Oh! Well even _better_. Your father is in the single most impenetrable fortress in the entire galaxy. It'd be easier to get him out if he actually _was _dead. So, that's your grand plan for resistance? Bring a washed up smuggler and a crackpot to take an old traitor and have us make a suicidal assault on the _Silence_?"

"I've studied Falco. He's not a traitor. He's a survivor." Katt defended him, but Fox remembered the Battle of Cape Claw very well. His shoulder and left ear burned when he thought of Falco.

Fox picked up the knife in the seat and flipped it open with a flick of his wrist. Even better than new. When he looked up, he saw Dad with a clever smile on his face, _See. I told you. Don't ever give up, my son._ He looked around the bridge at the shadow it once was. The embers of memory, of hatred for the one ape who took away his family and friends suddenly stirred with all this wood left to sit and dry for almost two decades. _Fox… _he closed his eyes and Dad disappeared. When he opened them, Katt was standing there.

He took the knife and left the vest. He marched to the corridor intending to jump in his Arwing and get as far away from here as possible. Maybe a whole different star system. Katt stood in front of him and held his shoulder. He violently shook her off without a word. She tried to stop him again, this time squeezing his shoulder saying, "Fox!" she wouldn't let go. He whirled and punched her in the face. She flew back onto the deck. Fox didn't bother to see if she would get up. He tried to punch open the door but the code was different from what he remembered.

"Fucking open!" He felt a hand at the back of his head. Katt slammed his face into the door. Twice. He elbowed her in the gut as hard as he could, turned, and tried to kick her away from him. Instead, she caught his leg and hit him in the face. He braced his back against the wall and kicked her away with both legs. She stumbled back but immediately launched to her feet and put up her fists. Fox pulled out his knife and flipped it open, "Don't you fucking come near me." In the lowest whisper, he threatened her, "I'll kill you."

Lucy punched in the code and the door opened, "Just go." She said. Fox stared at Katt's wide eyed and ready to fight with her fists still held up. He turned to Lucy who had tears in hers and running down her cheeks. Slippy, off in the far side of the bridge, was tinkering away and muttering to himself. He seemed not even to notice what was happening.

Fox closed the knife, turned, and walked down the corridor.


	7. Falco II

Chapter 7: Falco II

"_The fall of the Jootag Bxoduko produced through a combination of efforts from the Bonobist religion and Cerinian exilic community, opened the door for a number of powerful military and political forces to enter the great game that was Sauria. The largest being the Cornerian led Lylat People's Union, the newly formed Cerinian Bxuduko in Exile, and the newly unified Sharpclaw Nation. I'll discuss each in turn." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. 4 Sauria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

The last time Falco was on Cape Claw, he was carrying an assault rifle and clearing it of headhunters. The biggest building was a stone hut though there were rumors of magnificent temples hidden in the Cliffside. When the ship landed at the military space port Falco was shocked to see a booming urban center that took merely a decade to seed, germinate, and bloom. _If only they knew I established this place, _he thought.

At the landing pad there was a young uniformed canid. She wore a dozen campaign medals – all Saurian – and held the rank of a Lieutenant. On her nametag were the letters "Grey."

"Colonel Lombardi!" she saluted, "Good to finally meet you."

"You're Michelle Grey? Bill's daughter?" Falco returned the salute.

"One and the same, sir. I've been asked to give you a quick tour of Main Street and bring you to OFPT. They'll be departing for Walled City as soon as you arrive." She led Falco to her modified Landmaster II. Instead of treads, it had metal wheels. There was no cannon mountain on top, but there was room for a gunmount and plenty of sitting room. The driver and passengers weren't confirmed to an armored interior, but were open to the elements for all intents and purposes it was an all-terrain personnel vehicle. Falco climbed in, eager to see the city he planted.

Almost immediately they were driving through Corneria-style concrete apartment buildings, "Lower-class housing," Michelle explained, "Living space mostly for immigrants."

"Where do they emigrate from?"

"Pick a place. The big three are Corneria, Fichina, and Sauria."

"From Sauria to Sauria?"

"From their tribe to Cape Claw. We get warmth seekers from Fichina, and labor seekers from Corneria. They tend to congregate along racial and tribal lines. You get your typical lower class social bullshit here: drugs, gangs, prostitution. No matter how much money gets thrown at the system, the scum always find a way to work around it. There's hospitals, parks, rehab centers. My father says the problem is getting better but you'd never know just by looking at it."

They left the slums and moved into an industrial center, "All this tends to be resource processing before it's sent off-world. Macbeth, Eladard, Corneria, etc. It's funny at the end of the day to watch all the migrant workers move from the factories in land, and the managers from the factories to the coast."

Once they passed the industrial district the pungent smell of salt filled Falco's senses, "We're close." He said.

"Yep!" Just as she confirmed it, the Ocean entered their view, blocked only by the burgeoning metropolis, "Not quite a young Corneria yet. But a small city. In another century it'll be as big as old Sedjkudkadefco." In the very center of Cape Claw Colony was – by the strictest definition of the term – a skyscraper that served as many businesses' Saurian HQ. Below that tower was a host of upper-class apartments as well as shopping and theater districts. The difference between seaside beach resort and the concrete slum fifteen minutes in land was startling to Falco. As Michelle drove him through Main Street, he had a hard time believing he was in Sauria and not Corneria.

Michelle took a hard left and drove them up a series of switchbacks and through a number of military checkpoints. She parked the LM just outside of an imposing gate marked with the words "Ocean Force Point Temple – Cornerian Defense Force Planetary Central Command." Inside was a startling fusion of incredible ancient architecture decorated with mosaics from floor to ceiling, overlaid with modern infrastructure. Over the centuries-old scriptures carved into the walls and floors were computer consoles and desks with military personnel sending messages to CDF forces around the planet, "My father is this way." Michelle led Falco to an elevator grafted to a holy shaft of light that once diffused into a large crystal at the base of the column, now interrupted by the elevator.

At the top was the roof of the Temple. A small glass office revealed Brigadier General William Grey sitting at his desk going over a series of files on his glass console. Falco though it was interesting: Grey's office was no bigger than the dorm room Falco was stuffed in for the trip over from Corneria.

Bill extended his office and waved Falco and Michelle to the dropship waiting a hundred feet away. There were two others loaded with infantrymen a bit farther down the roof. Michelle helped Falco into the ship. He buckled himself in before Bill greeted him, "Sorry we skipped the grand formalities. The Cerinian Queen has called for a meeting so we have to get our ass to Walled City to find out what she wants."

"Cerinian Queen?" Falco asked as the ship launched into the air.

"How much do you know about the political situation down here?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"The last time I was here it was a _shoot first-questions later _sort of deal. I wasn't introduced to the factions or anything of the sort."

"I'll lend you my copy of Dr. Doa's _History_. For now let me just give you the basic us vee them. We're the head of the Southern Faction, more or less. In descending order of loyalty, our allies are General Scales of the Sharpclaw Bxuduko, King Zumoudw of the Thibfu tribe, and the Earthwalkers."

"Wait… could you go over that again?"

"Geez, Lombardi… weren't you given any briefing materials on the way over?"

"Actually, no."

He sighed heavily over the COM link. The years were not kind to Bill. His mouth was carved into what seemed like an eternal frown and his eyes held this piercing glare sharpened through years of discipline and pain, "General Scales is a Sharpclaw warlord. United the tribes after we swept into the area and turned into our client. They give us exclusive rights to their territory in return for hardware."

"Seriously?" Falco asked. He shot his fair share of Sharpclaw last time he was on Sauria.

"Yes, seriously. Listen. King Zumoudw…"

"One more time."

"King _Zumo_ leads the Thibfu Nation. They're an extraordinarily proud people. All Saurian, Cerinian descendants. Blue-furred, ultra-religious, with psychokinetics in their armies. Zumo's a politician. He has goals that, for the time being, we further. As soon as we don't, he and his entire Nation will turn against us."

"Nice. And the Earthwalkers."

"Loathe us. As soon as they get the opportunity, they'll turn on us and kill as many as they can."

"Is there are reason?"

"We kidnapped the Crown Prince."

Falco almost didn't believe him but he stared at Bill's face long enough to realize it wasn't a joke, "What the _hell_, Bill?"

"It was orders. Straight from the Top." _Andross_.

"_Zojij Sxhajk_… why?"

"Because the Earthwalkers were unruly and willful. Every couple of months we give them a video conference with Prince Torriki alive and well and they do what we ask."

Falco felt enormously uncomfortable. But being back in his element – on ship in a warzone – gave him confidence, "Where is he?"

"How should I know? Somewhere the Earthwalkers will never find him. Probably off-planet."

"So we're allied with a General who condones rape as a war strategy and a religious right, a malicious tribal King who's using us as much as we're using him, and Dinosaurs we've blackmailed into obeying us. Anything else I should know?"

"Yes," Bill said matter-of-factly, "Our enemy. You remember Krystal, Fox's girlfriend during the war?"

Shame filled Falco's throat and soon traveled to other parts of his body, "Yeah, I remember."

"She's risen to become Bxodte of the Cerinian Bxuduko in Exile. She rules technically through her son who she claims is the reincarnation of her own father."

_Bxodte. Bxuduko_. "A lot of words you're throwing at me are very unfamiliar. I know very little Saurian."

"_Bxodte_: Queen. _Bxuduko:_ Empire. They call us Corneria Bxuduko. Cerinian society is typically run by priests that claim to be the reincarnations of their predecessors. Krystal's father was the single most powerful one of these _Kichis _on Cerinia. To legitimize her own rule, she claims her son is his reincarnate."

"And _this _is our most powerful enemy."

"Don't let their crackpot religion fool you. The Cerinians command an extremely loyal population. The Xikibki is only nine, but more than a hundred tribes follow his young spiritual leadership. Cuej, Umtenu, Bxumfu, Cutubxa, Tua. A bunch of tiny peoples powerless on their own but united, cause a whole lot of fucking dead Cornerians." Bill laughed, "And _then _there's the Bonobists."

"Isn't that a religion?"

"Yep. And here they've _centralized_. There's a Pope and a Popess and they have a central temple on Whartonia. It's their own little city-state but other than that the Bonobists don't actually play politics technically speaking. To get native leaders to give them land for temples and potential for converts, they offer military hardware. The Saurians hate the foreign religion, but they love the weapons. If it wasn't for the damn Bonobists feeding Krystal rifles, artillery, and aircraft, we could've destroyed her by now. So when you see her all decked out in tribal gear, remember that behind the ceremony is a whole lot of firepower."

"We're meeting her?" the ship started to descend over a Peninsula jutting out into an enormous inland sea.

"And Scales, Zumo, and the Earthwalker Royals. Also, control your trigger finger. Krystal usually keeps a couple headhunters for guards."

Walled City was even more impressive than Cape Claw. It was a golden-bricked masterpiece of medieval architecture. The central temple, a pyramid structure, was split in an eastern half and a western one. Bill explained that the city served as a dual capital: one for the Earthwalker tribe, and one for the Thibfu. The city was far from limited to those tribes, however. Just from the short journey from the landing site outside the city to the receiving hall at the top of the pyramid, Falco saw all manner of peoples from the lowland almost naked Cuej, to the robed devout looking Kichi he'd heard so much about, to the monstrous Lightfoot, even Zonesian Avians like himself, and all other Cornerian races opening offices and selling off-planet goods. Michelle pointed out the different costumes of the blue-furred Cerinians and made comments about their tribe and culture. Falco barely remembered any of it, but he was certainly fascinated.

He saw his first Sharpclawess. He felt stupid, like he'd certainly seen them before in Corneria but there they were dressed like businesswomen and office drones. Here they all looked like they were ready for a day at the beach. Falco felt his blood race when a green-scaled woman flashed her eyes at him. He reminded himself that he was a married man.

At the top of the pyramid where court was being held, the Cornerians were the last to arrive. At the east side of the open room were the magnificent thrones for the Earthwalker King and Queen. Surrounding them was a host of courtiers from many different tribes. There were her ladies-in-waiting, his personal guards, a court historian and bard, a jester, and some distant members of the royal family.

On the north side of the room was the Cerinians. Bxudte Krystal was seated on an elaborate combination of pillows surrounded by her fair share of advisors, courtiers, and guards. Falco took note of the headhunters in white and red tunics with long curved blades. He met his fair share of those back in the day. Krystal herself was of mild interest to Falco. She no longer seemed like the starry-eyed young girl Fox would blow him off for. There, in front of him, dressed in an elaborate and shining gown of epic dimension, was the woman Falco never thought he'd know.

The west side of the chamber had a Throne for Bxud Zumo but instead of his whole court, his allies, General Scales and Brigadier General Grey filled it with their men, "Wel, now that we're all here, King Zumo announced, "My lady, you called this meeting. You may begin if you'd like."

"I would, Zumoudw. First, your majesties, how is your son?" she turned to face the Earthwalkers. They looked saddened at the mention of the Prince. Falco knew she did it to remind them who was their friend, and who kidnapped their son."

"Alive and he's in high spirits." The Earthwalker Queen answered, "Thank you for asking, your grace."

"And Zumoudw, your father's health continues to improve?" she turned to the King. Falco noticed he was roughly ten years older than her. King Zumo could hardly keep his eyes off the shocking leader of Cerinia.

"Yes. He still holds out hope that he'll see my wedding day." A smile curled the ends of his mouth, revealing a devilish set of teeth.

"I think we all hope to see that." Krystal had a very perfect fake laugh. Falco almost believed it, "Brigadier General Grey. It's been almost a week. I'd nearly forgotten what your face looks like."

"A blessing in your case. But I never get tired of seeing yours." Bill spoke with a strange air of sincerity.

Michelle leaned into Falco's ear and said, "It's all formalities. The hosts and guests need to compliment each other before they say what they came to say. Of course, at a political event like this, you can gauge where each party stands based on the compliment given."

"And who is that back there? Have we met?" Krystal asked.

Falco stepped forward, "Colonel Falco Lombardi, at your service, ma'am." He bowed, unsure as to why but he felt it was appropriate.

Krystal stood and took a short walk to within arm's reach of Falco. She reached out a hand and touched his face, "Falco… you know I've dreamed of this day? I thought it was just a dream but here you are."

Falco couldn't help but smile with her, "It's good to see you, Krys."

She winked at him and went to go sit down, "It's a pleasure, of course, but I've come to discuss the Ice Mountains." The Earthwalkers perked up while Scales and Grey were unreadable. Zumo just fixed his eyes on Krystal and watched as she spoke, "It was my understanding that hunting grounds were equivalent to an international border."

"Yes," Queen Earthwalker agreed, "that was our understanding as well."

"Then it serves as a mystery why my people on the Ice Mountains are facing Earthwalker soldiers on the south slopes of said mountain range."

There was an awkward silence until Bill broke it, "Hunting grounds were never understood by Cornerian law to be international border zones. In fact, precedent…"

"Precedent dictates that an uncontested hunting ground, when one party is solely benefitting from the produce in that zone, it is legally _their _land. Also, Brigadier General Grey, I am not _blind _but as far as I have heard, only Earthwalker soldiers have trespassed on my lands. This marks a tribal dispute, but based on the Treaty of Thorntail Hollow, any Cornerian soldiers trespassing on my lands constitutes an act of war."

"I assure you, Bxodte," Bill said, "No Cornerian soldiers have been trespassing in Cerinian territory." Everyone knew that statement was a lie. Cornerian and Cerinian soldiers passed covertly through each other's territory all of the time. It was their game of cat-and-mouse. Their cold war killed hundreds per year, but as long as no one actually acknowledged it, the war remained cold.

Scales smiled viciously. He was great at remaining silent and looking malicious. While the Cerinians and Cornerians butchered each other in the wilderness, the Sharpclaw were more than eager to join in. Whole villages were discovered in the border zone completely decimated with Cerinians never heard from again. Falco was comfortable not knowing what happened to them. The alternatives…

In a few short sentences, Krystal managed to lock her apparent and her real enemy into a verbal quandary. The Earthwalkers acknowledged – accidentally so – that the Ice Mountains were in fact Cerinian land. She also forced the Cornerians to acknowledge that the Ice Mountain were off limits for their covert games. It was the sort of problem that Bill was suddenly faced with: why did Krystal want the Ice Mountains off limits? And should Bill really risk an international incident trying to find out?

There were some other issues discussed. Hidden threats were tucked inside smiles and stern declarations of territorial integrity. The only two characters of note not to speak at all were the King Earthwalker and General Scales. The former out of grief and anger. The latter chuckled under his breath and drank from a golden goblet.

Falco breathed a sigh of relief when they left. Things sure were easier when he was here last time. On the ship jetting back to Cape Claw, Bill revealed to Falco his plan: "Let's give it two weeks. Things will simmer down. And then we'll see why she wants us off those Mountains so bad."


	8. Fara I

Chapter 8: Fara I

"_Tanistry is the preferred succession law for Apish royal families. It supported the minimally accepted ideals of democratic government while ensuring dynastic continuity. Where the Phoenix dynasty – like Fennec dynasties before them – used elective gavelkind to split titles among the family to prevent (or foment) political bickering, the Oikonnys immediately added a structure to the already complicated government: the Annual Tanistry Committee." – History of the Lylat System, Vol. 1 Corneria, Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa, Corneria City University_

Throughout history, the decisions that weren't made on the battlefield were made at a vacation resort. After Rahhid Phoenix conquered the Ytrebil basin and secured the Eamet Coast, he shared a bottle of scotch with the founders of the Republic. After Andross conquered the Lylat, he and a dozen other power brokers met at a ski resort to divide up the planets over pancakes.

Fara tried not to think of allusions to her circumstance as she stared out the window of their hotel/conference hall.

The Rift Junction Islands were a long archipalego that, even in ancient Zoness, served as the resting abode for Kings and Conquerors. Zonesian people – all variety of winged avians like her husband – were no longer running the show on the RJI's. If anything, they were subservient. The Islands, still maintaining their important resort capacity, catered more for the wealthy Cornerian aristocrat than the demanding Zonesian king.

According to Dr. Doa's _History_, Zoness was a global civilization long before Corneria was. Low gravity – two thirds that of Corneria – and high air pressure gave rise to her husband's people who took advantage of planet-circling air currents and spread across the globe. Corneria had three global wars in her history. On Zoness, it was hard for any conflict _not _to become planetary in nature.

Western Harbor looked out to the sea at an ocean snaking between Antipodia and Greater Eebok – Zoness' western continents. The harbor wormed its way between a dozen cliff faces that dropped directly into the water leaving a sprawling town of stilt-crafted houses for the sea-and-air dwelling Zonesians. Fara traveled among them long ago when she was still her father's apprentice in Dynamic Shipping Ltd. She always wanted to visit with Falco, but the nature of their work kept them from ever visiting.

The Hotel was about as far from the local Zonesian experience as one could get. Somewhere between the marble floors, the cocktail bar, the classically Fennec statues, and the Tsudish leather chairs, Fara asked why they even bothered to leave Corneria in the first place?

There were special glasses that read "Annual Tanistry Committee 83 a.U." She took one and began sipping the noxious rum-based drink. On the other side of the room, Governor Dengar was sitting at the bar surrounded by Titanian politicians and two hired wenches. The Aparoid Invasion was nine years ago. Pigma wasn't still riding off his fame as the Hero of Lylat. His appearance, demeanor, and ignorance far surpassed the Battle of Corneria's panty-dropping capabilities. Either the women around Pigma's arms were either Titanian slaves (no, there was no slavery… just serfdom on Titania) or Zonesian prostitutes.

Fara didn't really care. Pigma Dengar was the scum of Lylat and there would always be prostitutes. At least Pigma would pay them if they were actual whores. Slavery on Titania was another issue entirely.

A Zonesian serving girl came up to Fara and asked, "Is there anything I can get you, Madam Representative?" she had green feathers and well groomed features. She had a huge round beak and a set of enormous wings. The hotel uniform – a simple white buttoned down shirt with black pants – was unisex and completely Cornerian. Some hotels in the area tried to maintain the illusion of actually being on an exotic and foreign would and not a vacation resort, and came up with faux native uniforms for their staff.

The girl looked like she was nineteen or twenty. Fara smiled and reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of white pills, "If you could, when the Hero over there orders another drink, please do me a favor and pop this into his glass."

She looked back at Fara with concern deep in her eyes, "Is… is it… Madam… I don't think I can."

"What's your name?"

"Uh… Jeira."

"Jeira," Fara tried to soften her gaze, "Yes. It's perfectly safe. It's a laxative."

Jeira began laughing nervously, "Oh, ma'am. You had me worried… I was worried you were asking me to…"

"No. Nothing of that sort. I would be in even more trouble than you."

Jeira laughed again, "I… I, uh, am sure I trust you. But, madam, I might lost my job if I was ever found out."

"Of course," Fara put the pills back in her pocket, "Thank you, Jeira, I don't need anything."

Jeira walked off and asked another Lylatian politician if he needed something. Fara had never met Andross' grandson before this moment on a hotel in the Rift Junction Isles. But she'd heard plenty about the young Governor of Venom. At only 29, he was the youngest person here at the Tanistry Committee. Technically, he outranked Fara, but his political experience was subordinate to pretty much anyone else's. Dash Bowman cut his teeth getting his undergrad in history working as a research assistant to Dr. Doa and after that getting his doctorate at Eamet University in Political Science. He began studying constitutional law when his grandfather brought him into the Dynastic branch of Lylatian government.

"Madam Representative," Dash was a bit shorter than she was. He had a close-cropped head of hair and large blue eyes. It was clear he took extremely good care of himself to an almost obsessive degree. He wore two rings on his left hand: one for his undergrad at CCU and the other for Eamet, "I'm so glad to finally make your acquaintence."

"And yours, Governow Bowman," Fara moved her back to the wall behind her to keep Dash and Pigma in one line of sight, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm just trying to make everyone's acquaintence. I've been governor for a year but basically confined to Venom."

"Where I saw you've advanced not only industrial output but also agricultural output. Your terraforming projects are really impressive."

"Thank you… the Venomian people are very industrious. They just needed the resources to build their planet that was never properly distributed throughout the Lylat System."

Fara held her tongue. _Indeed, _she wanted to say, _it's how Andross first gathered an army: by exploiting the Venomian people's desire for a better world, and a brighter future. Instead, he won the war and moved the government to Corneria and Venom stayed a backwater. _Regardless of how sharp Dash was – he could hardly ignore the historic reality of Andross' promises to Venom – he was still the Emperor's grandson. Fara _had _to step lightly.

"Papetoon was not dissimilar when I was first elected to a Representative position. Fifteen years ago mining corporations controlled everything from the governor's office to local sheriffs. Now, we've broken up the cartels, promoted worker's unions, and reduced the sex trafficking. It's been eventful to say the least."

"If I may say so, Madam, your work on Papetoon has been an inspiration."

"On the contrary, Dash. I'm responsible for partial governance of Corneria's moon with less than three million people on it. You're responsible or total governance of a monstrous planet by comparison. It's I who should be inspired by you."

"May I ask you a question?"

Dash, for all his intelligence, was a bit awkward, "Shoot."

"Why do you do it?"

"Why do I do _what_?" she asked.

Dash finished his drink, "Why do you do… this?" he gestured around, giving Pigma a dirty glance, "This debauchery of a government. One that tried to destroy… em… the previous one," _You were going to say 'your family,' _"I mean, what happens on Papetoon – or Venom – stays on Papetoon… or Venom. But I hate _this_. Interplanetary government is awful. And everyone knows it."

"But what is it you're asking?"

"You're not in the line of succession any more. So it's not for political gain. You're independently wealthy. So it's not for money. Why are you in politics at all? Why do you stay?"

"Dash…" Fara sighed, "Emperor Kalos IV was my fourth cousin once or twice removed. It's been a while since I checked the family tree. Either way, I had too many cousins in front of me. If I wanted to be Empress, I would have had to step over a lot of dead bodies. Including my older brother and sister. Hell, my father was deciding on an heir for the business and the only reason I ended up with it is because my brother prefers dance, and my sister prefers…" _heroin_, "interests of her own. When I was born I grew up in a royal family, knowing the closest I could ever get to the Throne was a last name and a family reunion. I'm alive. You can see it turned out to be a blessing in disguise."

"But that's not entirely true. Had history turned out differently, you might've married Prince Kalos." Dash sippsed from his drink, relishing the look of surprise on Fara's face, "I… uh," she realized she had misjudged his awkwardness for something else entirely, "Well, Kalo was only a few weeks older than I was. We used to spend our vacations together with some other aristocrat children. We were pushed together from an early age, but I would have been Empress-Consort if that were the case. Not legitimate in my own right. Very, very different." She hadn't heard Kalos' name in years…

"Which brings me back to my original question: why?"

She was growing tired of this game, "There's a saying from the Kudkhu: To truly rule is to serve."

"So service? You are a servant to the Lylatian people?"

"I like to think so. I want to see the lives of Papetoon's citizens bettered. I'll never get to the Throne. I never was going to. So what? I'm here for the average Lylatian. Not myself. My cousin forgot that. It's why half of the Phoenizes are buried and not still ruling from on high."

"By that logic…"

Did Dash really think Fara was going to finish that sentence?

He didn't wait too long and continued, "By that logic, neither will us Oikonnys."

"Technically," Fara began, "You're not an Oikonny. And even if you were, you won't be able to convince electors to vote for you with logic."

"You bring up two very interesting issues, Madam. First, no I'm not an Oikonny. Andross had only one daughter and she had me. Thanks to the rules of patrimony, I ended up a Bowman. That said, the _actual _Oikonny dynasty isn't long for this world. See, there's only one left and it's why he's the default Tanist."

Andrew Oikonny was atually the least qualified – except perhaps Pigma Dengar – of all people to run the Lylat System. His approach to everything was to place more qualified people in charge as quickly as possible and spend the rest of your time looking imposing and demanding respect. Macbeth – a planet devoid of intelligent life, run completely by automated machines to fuel the Cornerian war machine – was the perfect place for him. But on Corneria, where the Emperor had to regularly deal with legislatives, councilors, soldiers, spies, and even private citizens, no. That was not the place for Andrew. He was Tanist simply by default. Not by merit.

"Well, unless we can come up with some Oikonnys out of thin air, our selection is pretty slim."

"Article 2, Section 16." Fara asked him to repeat, "Article 2, Section 16 outlines succession in the event of no _suitable dynasty members_."

"Which means if the incumbent dies without an heir, the Tanist can be selected from any blood relative regardless of dynasty." Dash smiled widely at Fara, "This means Andross would need to be missing an hier. He isn't. The clause would only apply if either Andross or Andrew were dead." _Or both would be nice_, "Besides, even if you were eligible, what makes you think you could be Emperor? Or why I would vote for you at all?"

"You said it yourself, Madam Phoenix: my record after only one year is stellar." Dash lowered his voice, "And if the Committee umps the gun a bit and write in someone else that's not Andrew… Andross is sure to approve the decision. Everyone knows Andrew would be a disaster."

"So you're proposing to me that if anything, you're the lesser of two evils."

"How can I prove to you I'm not evil at all, but a force for good? I also want to serve. Not just with good intentions either. But if I'm going to get anywhere with it, I need support… I need allies."

"And so to attack your cousin and seat yourself on the Throne of a Thousand Shepherds, you came to a member of the defeated Dynasty who represents a backwater moon with little to no military capability."

Dash smiled again, that conspiratorial smile Fara would come to know so well, "There are others. There are people, politicians I should say, who don't want Andrew as Emperor." These people, politicians could be anyone – opportunists, religious and ideological fanatics, Phoenix loyalists – but how could Fara trust Andross' own blood? "There's absolutely no way to sway the Tanistry Committee this year. Some of the electors will be abstaining. You should abstain as well."

"I never said I was on your side."

"I know. But you're not on Andrew's."

That much was true. Dash was smart. Sharp as a tack and actually capable. That much was clear. But could he play this game? Did he have any clue what kind of fire he was playing with? Fara's curiosity was piqued. She didn't _trust _Dash Bowman, but if he could prove to be a formidable enemy to Andrew, maybe it'd be worth considering.

Two days later, Representative Fara Phoenix abstained from voting.


	9. Caiman I

Chapter 9: Caiman I

"_Consider this, how many civilizations fell to the Aparoids and were unable to fight back? If they arrived in the Medieval Era, would we have been able to resist? Probably not. How many worlds did they destroy until they reached the Lylat System and met us? We'll never know." – 101.3 CCUR, interview with Dr. Dwic Jomju Doa_

_If history records any of our faults_, Caiman thought_, it's that we bothered to come here at all_. He was sitting at a table for the Kewish Security Council representing – as was unusual – the LPU. Even though Lylatians only composed of one faction on Kew III, they made up half the chamber's inhabitants. Caiman sat in the normal delegate's seat, staring across at the unhappy allies: Great Empires of variety East and West. Along with the Great Eastern and Great Western Empires, they were also aided by the Old Empire (who Great West broke away from) and the Never Empire (who challenged Great East for supremacy of the continent they shared). Finally, there was a seat leftover for the chaotic delegation of All Under Heaven.

The Lylatian side had five members that – prior to the arrival of Caiman and the First Fleet – were backwater areas. The Former Empire shared a border with Never and a tiny province of Old, but after allying with Lylat, took back that province (Caiman even wore his campaign ribbon for the Rock) and even expanded into the lands that once composed of their eponymous Former Empire.

The Formerites shared a common religion with the Duchy, which barely registered on a map. But after the introduction of Cornerian technology, came to consume half of the continent under a relatively autonomous imperial structure.

The last three of Lylat's Kewish allies lived on the very edges of civilization. One was surviving in the desert a sa resource rich aristocracy filled with aging statesmen and religious fanatics. Another was at the tail-end of a decade long famine (made prosperous and satiated by Lylatian tech) but held absolute rule over its people. The last was a Mountainous Kingdom of less than a million Kewites, until deals were made with Lylat and her immediate invasions of neighbouring areas jumped those population statistics to twenty million direct subjects, and about a billion in the neighbouring sphere of influence.

The Famine Empire and Mountain Kingdom's greatest gains were at the expense of the former government of All Under Heaven. The war still raged and Caiman's one goal today was to keep Great West and Great East from joining. Difficult considering the Lylatians now controlled AUH's most lucrative port and were busy annexing that holding into the Interstellar Free Trade Alliance.

When the history of Kew's admission to the LPU was written, Caiman would be sure to feature as a controversial figure: architect of the space-age Kew, liberator of the poor and downtrodden Kewite, war monger, weapon's smuggler, _genocidaire_.

"For starters, the illegal annexation of southern ports into Lylat's official administration is an illegal act of aggression bordering on old fashioned colonialism and war."

The Heavenist delegation announced. Caiman didn't even have to press in his translator piece too hard. These sorts of comments were more or less a Kewish form of "Hello."

As the negotiations proceeded, the Famine Empire and Mountain Kingdom took a central role. It was the Mountaineers and the Not-So-Hungry that were overrunning All Under Heaven. The King of the Mountains was taking All Under Heaven's high-altitude, western Plateau while the Famine Empire was expanding into the northeastern of All Under Heaven's steppe and into the northern river valleys. It was precisely this area that Great East and Great West wanted to contest. Part of this land even contained All Under Heaven's capital city.

Caiman learned the hard way that a dark and shadowy hand was more effective than active participation. Lylatian forces had seized nearly a hundred port colonies all across Kew III. Some were cities contentious to Kewish history – so in that, Caiman removed the cause for a lot of inter-Kewish violence – while others were cities never before considered until space travel had to be planned for and adopted as a means of commerce or transportation. Seizing the most prosperous port in southern All Under Heaven meant that Lylat de facto assumed a sphere of influence directly bordering the Empires Famine and Mountain, without ever setting boot on the mainland itself.

"If we're being honest with ourselves," the Mountainous delegate began, "even the northern steppe should be under our rule since we share a common history and religion."

"Regardless of society," the Great Eastern delegate began, "current geopolitics demand that the steppe remains under our sphere of influence if the balance of power is to be maintained."

Caiman sat there looking menacing and staring down the delegation at the opposite table. The smallish character forming the face of All Under Heaven was all too silent and looked like he was losing a far more important battle than the ones on the front line. Caiman had sat through a lot of partitions of Kewish countries, but none was as painful as this.

_This will be a whole new chapter, _Caiman thought, _the partition of a Security Council Member_. In a way, this was all according to plan: divide the enemy powers, unite the Allied ones, admit Kew III to the Lylatian People's Union. If only there wasn't so much blood…

The diplomatic posturing went on for three hours. Assistants and other enlisted Cornerians kept bringing Caiman water, forgetting that a Sharpclaw needed only minimal fluids to function. Especially on a drowned world like Kew III. After All Under Heaven was divided between Security Council Members with a tiny rump state left over, the map was signed and stamped. Caiman as the official representative of the Lylat People's Union signed first. The poor, proud, ashamed delegates of All Under Heaven signed last.

The formalities at the end were a whirlwind of handshakes and disguished smiles. Caiman informed the diplomatic team that he was jetting off to the _Harvester _to resume his duties on ship without the necessary headache of Kewish humidity. He didn't wait long for everyone to get the message. Until nuclear weapons started getting tossed about like hot cakes, Caiman didn't see a reason to return to Kew planet-side unless it was for a shipment of Faminist soju.

The shuttle departed from the port and made the half-hour ascent and orbit to the Fleet. The _Harvester, _a modified Zeram-II, was Caiman's flagship and was almost permanently Zeram-I cruisers, a dozen Harlock frigates, and two Grazan carriers. Each ship was positioned strategically around Kew III.

Every once in a while, Caiman moved around the Fleet like pieces on a chessboard. It was a delicate game, and at the end of the day, he'd rather be marching through the Katina savannah with a shotgun and ten rounds, or flying through Area 6 dogfighting with Fox McCloud. He just needed a good excuse to take the _Harvester _out of its position in lunar orbit.

Caiman entered the deck of the _Harvester_ and all the officers rose from their station and saluted. Caiman gave the customary salute back and sat in the command chair at the center of the brightly lit room, "Let's get a status report."

The Executive Officer, a Fichinan ursine by the name of Svetskyn pulled out his tablet and began, "Yes, Admiral. For starters we have the Faminist space program that is requesting more material aid to propel construction of their lunar base."

If the Faminites get more equipment, the other four allies would expect support to build their own lunar bases. It was easy enough to stall those developments and claim more of the lunar surface directly for Lylat regardless. Kew III's moon was nothing like Papetoon. It was desolate and lifeless without an atmosphere. Terraforming efforts required technology that was still centuries from development, "Next."

"Two frigates are requiring special maintenance. The _Vengeance _and the _Justice_ both have damaged G-Diffusers. I believe _Vengeance_'s is too old – dating from the Saurian Civil War – while _Justice _is the result of mechanical failure."

"Do we have the spare parts readily available?"

"No. They'd have to head back to Lylat for repairs."

"Doesn't seem like we have a choice. Where are _Justice _and _Vengeance _positioned?"

"_Vengeance _over Area 16, _Justice _over Area 59."

Those were directly over central provinces of Great East and Great West. Moving them would send the wrong signal to Kewish governments, "Send a message to CenCom. Tell them we need a transfer to make repairs on two frigates without compromising our diplomatic position."

"Sure thing, sir."

"What's next?"

"Great West's space agency requested that we investigate some mysterious data they had coming in from the Asteroid Belt."

"Mysterious data?"

Svetskyn clicked a few icons on his tablet to move what he was seeing into Caiman's console. What appeared was a long set of numbers beside a satellite image that showed little more than a field of asteroids. The enemy's space agency was kind enough to circle the mystery on the image: a strange dot that moved with bizarre rapidity and pulsing motions on the side of an almost planetary asteroid.

"What is it?"

"They don't know. They're asking us to check it out because their telescopic tests are inconclusive."

"Where is this?" Caiman wondered if they could just turn their own telescopes on the anomaly and solve the mystery.

"Opposite side of Kew. The satellite that took this photo is over by Kew VI. They bounced the signal off a Neverite satellite over here by Kew IV." Of course they couldn't just turn their telescopes in that direction. There was a freaking star in the way. Still, the _Harvester _hadn't broken orbit for almost two years. There was certainly a silver lining to this arrangement.

"How far are we?"

"From?"

"From the anomaly."

"About two day's ride on interplanetary speeds."

"Let's take the old girl out. She's been sitting pretty for a few months. I think she deserves a stroll. Inform the other captains and make sure that message gets back to Corneria. _Vengeance _and _Justice _should be replaced when we get back."

"What should we tell the Kewish?"

"We're taking care of it."


End file.
